When in Doubt
by ScarlettSunshine
Summary: Draco has a daughter. Pansy is the mother. Or more like WAS. She's passed away and the responsibility of taking care of the baby is left for Draco. Having no idea how to handle a baby good fortune smiles upon him, in the form of Hermione Granger.
1. Chapter 1

"Mr. Malfoy, a message has been delivered for you."

"Langley, get the hell out of my office," Draco snapped.

William Langley stepped back off the border where the carpet met hardwood, marking the territory of Draco Malfoy. He looked down, "Sorry Mr. Malfoy. But the message-"

"I'm busy, leave it...wherever," Draco waved him off turning back to the document in front of him.

His assistant held up the note, "But Mr. Malfoy, it's from Ms. Parkinson."

"Fine, give the damn message," Draco ordered tiredly, holding a hand out expectantly. If it was another one of her false alarms or bloody cravings he was going to kill her.

Langley came forward handing it over and Draco looked at him. "Well get out," Draco ordered with a look of 'what are you still doing here?'

"Right, sorry sir."

"Don't apologize, just get out."

"Right," Langley hurriedly left the office and Draco looked down at the parchment.

"Holy shit," Draco whispered, putting his head in his hands, "Pansy."

He grabbed his robe off the hook and stormed out of the office. "Langley!" he barked.

"Yes Mr. Malfoy?" the younger man squeaked.

"Come on," Draco said, "I need a drink."

* * *

The next day Draco had sobered up after a pounding headache and a potion.

Draco sighed, after dragging himself around his room to get ready, he was out of the manor and had flooed to St. Mungos.

"Parkinson," he told the receptionist. The receptionist looked up at him warily after checking some files.

"Sir Ms. Parkinson...she's..."

"Dead," Draco finished emotionlessly, "I know."

"So then...sir..."

"The child," Draco snapped. "She's under my custody now. I was the father."

"Oh, I'm so sorry sir-"

"Whatever, where is she?" Draco asked.

The woman slid her glasses from the top of her head to rest on the bridge of her nose as she opened another file and slid it across the desk to him. "I'll need you to fill out the paperwork first."

"Fine."

Draco looked at the parchment in front of him. Everything was already filled out, probably by the healers and medi-witches.

He looked at the birth certificate.

Eye colour: Blue/Gray. Hair Colour: Blonde.

Apparently she looked like her father.

Draco looked at the blank spot on the document. The line where the child's name was supposed to be, was blank. Draco looked at the receptionist.

"What happened to her?"

"The baby's perfectly healthy."

"Not the baby," Draco looked back down at the counter, "Pansy."

"She died giving birth sir. There was too much stress-"

Draco cut her off, "Never mind. Forget I asked."

He looked at the certificate.

_Juliet Pansy Malfoy_

Juliet. He knew that was one of the names Pansy had been thinking of. And adding Pansy in there was a no-brainer. Malfoy...well giving her Parkinson would raise too many questions.

"Here." Draco shoved the file back at the receptionist after signing his name and was then directed to see his daughter.

He followed a medi-witch down a corridor until he reached the large glass window. Inside, each baby lay in a glass tray-looking think, cushioned by pink or blue blankets accordingly.

Draco looked around until his eyes landed on a baby wrapped in a pink blanket with a label above her head saying 'Parkinson'.

Nearly an hour later, Draco had collected himself enough to take the little girl home. As soon as he stepped through the doors into the large estate a house elf greeted him cautiously.

"Good morning Master Draco," the tiny elf squeaked.

Draco looked at the elf, "On the contrary Yip."

"Sorry Master Draco," the elf, Yip, bowed her head shamefully and Draco paused.

"Not your fault."

"Thank you Master Draco."

Draco nodded in acknowledgement at the elf. Yip looked up at the baby in Draco's arm. The small elf stood on her toes to get a better look, peeking over the blanket.

"Master Draco has a child?" Yip smiled.

Draco turned his attention to the small form that was asleep in his arms. "Yeah...go prepare a room for the baby."

The elf nodded and with a faint _pop_ was gone from the room. Draco stared at the baby in his arms.

She had slightly curly, but more wavy than anything, blonde hair, the identical colour to his own. She seemed like the tiniest little being in the word, barely reaching from Draco's fingertips to the bend of his elbow. He touched the side of her face with the back of his hand.

He sighed and went into the living room, sitting with the infant on his lap, supporting her head with one hand, whilst picking up a book and beginning to read with the other.

Draco couldn't focus. Two days ago he thought the issue with too many underage muggleborns 'accidently' doing magic in the plain sight of muggles was a big problem. He was one of the head of the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad and connected as a co-head to the Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee. Normally he didn't have to do much. He was basically paid a more than decent amount of money to just sit around all day filing reports on each incident and giving the occasional explanation to feed to muggle communities when things went wrong.

Not like he needed the money. He had enough heritance to live more than comfortably for the rest of his life.

But now, all of that was the least of his worries. Now, he had to deal with the repercussions of having a child. And that was much more than just a problem.

Draco jumped as the little girl in his arms let out a blood-curdling cry. "Shit," Draco swore as the baby's arms began to flail and her little face scrunched up with each scream. Draco began attempting to rock the child. The rocking seemed more like shaking though as Draco wasn't sure how to handle a crying baby.

"Hush," he whispered harshly down at the bundle of pink.

"Master Draco?"

Draco 'rocked' the little girl faster, "Quiet."

"Master Dr-Draco?"

"What?" Draco yelled. "What do you want?"

The small elf in the doorway moved back, hiding behind the pillar a bit. "Master Draco has a visitor."

Draco put a hand to his head as the child continued to scream, "Who is it?"

"Ministry worker," the elf's high-pitched voice travelled over the crying and Draco sighed.

"Fine...here," he passed the screaming child over to the house elf. "Make it...stop."

"Yip!" Draco called, the crying getting fainter and farther away.

"Yes Master Draco?" Yip popped into the room and Draco took a deep breath smoothing his hair down with his hand.

"Where's the...visitor?"

"In the foyer, would you like Yip to bring her here Master Draco?"

"Not here, my study," Draco instructed. Yip nodded and left. Draco sat down for a minute, calming himself. Taking deep breaths he closed his eyes for a minute before standing again and heading to the study.

He pushed open the doors, "Hi, Draco Mal- Granger?"

Hermione looked up from her seat in front of the huge, dark, wooden desk. "Hi," she smiled slightly as he sat down on the edge of his desk, his legs dangling in front of her. She shifted back in her seat away from him and he looked at her.

"_What_, Granger, are you doing in my house?"

"It's your house now?" she asked out of curiosity.

Draco shrugged, "Well let's see, my father's rotting away in Azkaban and mother's losing her sanity slowly with each moment in some mental hospital in France. So yeah, I think it's my house now."

Hermione nodded, "Alright. Well, I'm sorry to intrude into your ho-"

"No you're not," Draco interrupted.

"Okay I'm not. You set up a meeting with me today though and when I went to your office you weren't there. Zabini helped me floo here."

"Blaise?" Draco stopped. Blaise. He hadn't told Blaise a thing. He hadn't even talked to his best mate in the past few months. How was he going to explain the baby?

"Yeah, him," Hermione clarified. "Anyway, do you have time for the meeting now?"

"Not really," Draco bit. "If I was I think I would have shown up to work today. Besides, I didn't have any meeting today. Especially not with the likes of you."

"I'm sorry, let me introduce myself." Hermione held out a hand, "Hermione Granger, head of the Muggle Liaison Office."

Now that rang a bell. He had scheduled a meeting for something like that.

"Hm. Last I checked you were working with all of that magical creature business," Draco commented almost to himself, but loud enough for her to hear.

"I was, but after awhile it became too routinely. Nothing ever changed. I decided to try something else," she explained.

"Too routinely?" he repeated. "I thought routine was what you live for."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Me routinely? What about you? You have a job just bossing other people around, you still have your...house elves," she looked at him with disgust, "doing your work for you. Nothing about you has changed. You have all these people helping you stand on your own two feet." She sighed and tucked a loose curl back into her haphazardly done bun, "Which is why I've come to talk to you, I was supposed to check on how your department was running since-"

"Master Draco, Yip needs Master's help with the ba-" the elf was cut off when Draco jumped off the desk and slapped a hand across her mouth.

"Malfoy, that is no way to treat an innocent little creature! She has rights! One of which should allow her to speak freely without having her 'Master'-" Hermione was just getting started when Malfoy looked at her.

"Great Granger, hold that thought, I have some other...business to attend to. I'll be right back." Draco excused himself from the room and followed the elf into the living room where another elf was holding the baby, frantically looking around for something to help stop the constant cries coming from the bundle.

Draco looked up in exasperation. "Master Draco, what would you like Mitzy to do?" the elf asked.

Draco took the crying baby into his own arms unenthusiastically and turned to the elves, "Well what's _wrong_ with her?"

"Neither Mitzy or Yip knows," the small house elf looked close to tears and Draco rubbed his temples tiredly.

Draco tried 'rocking' the baby again but the crying continued. He was left to do the only thing he could think of, "Graaaaangerrrr!"

"Go get the...guest," he instructed Mitzy and she agreed, popping into the study.

"Hello Miss."  
Hermione smiled at the elf, "Hello, Hermione Granger," she held out a hand, "and you?"

Mitzy gave her an odd look before shaking the hand, "Mitzy. Master Draco would like you to be in the living room, Miss."

Hermione's fist clenched angrily, "He could have told me himself, Mitzy," she informed the little elf. "Do you feel your 'Master' is taking advantage of you?"

"Not at all Miss, Master Draco is much better than Master Malfoy, Master Draco's father that is. But, Miss, Master Draco has _urgently_ requested your presence," the elf squeaked.

"I think your master will be fine _without_ my presence," Hermione sighed.

"Graaaaaangerrr!" came the bellowed yell of Draco Malfoy.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Alright, where exactly is this master of yours?"

"This way Miss."

**A/N: So what do you think for the first chapter? Love it, hate it, like it, dislike it? Think it could be better?**

**If any of you are interested in beta-ing or know a great beta I'd be interested. I know there are probably a billion and one mistakes with this chapter alone.**

**_AN_yways,**

**Scarlett**


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione entered the living room and stared at the scene before her.

"Malfoy what are you doing with a child?" she asked, sounding slightly scared.

Draco immediately handed the child over to her and Hermione tried to pass her back but Draco had already retracted his arms from the child. Hermione barely caught her.

"Malfoy!" she snapped.

Draco looked at her, tired and pleadingly. He sat down, "Do something." That part wasn't a plead. Malfoys never pleaded. It was somewhat of an order. However Hermione did take pity on him.

She passed the crying baby to one of the elves and smiled thankfully. She couldn't think with the screaming ringing in her ears.

"How old is that child?"

"Newborn, about a day old," Draco responded, his voice muffled as he covered his face with his hands, running them up and through his hair with a sigh.

"Well what did you do to her?" Hermione questioned as she sat down beside him.

Draco pulled his hands away from his face, "I didn't do a damn thing to it! It just bloody started crying out of nowhere!"

Hermione sighed, "Did you try feeding her?"

"No. I don't know," Draco turned to the elf that was still standing in the room, "did you feed it?"

"No Master Draco. Would master Draco like Mitzy to feed the baby?" the elf offered.

Draco nodded and waved the elf away.

The elf stayed in the room, hesitantly looking around,"Master Draco sir?"

"Yes?"

"What would master Draco like Mitzy to feed the baby?"

"Do I look like I know what the hell babies eat?" Draco all but yelled at the elf. "Just feed it."

"Malfoy, a baby is not an 'it' a baby is a human being," Hermione corrected.

Draco took a deep breath, clenching his teeth, "If you're not going to help, you can just leave," he gritted out.

Hermione looked at him sharply before standing up, "Babies don't eat. They drink milk."

Draco looked up at her and then turned to the elf, "Get i-the baby some milk."

Hermione tried to determine if he was serious. "You can't give a newborn regular milk," she told him.

"You said milk," he pointed out.

"Not regular milk. It doesn't have the same nutrients and babies can't digest it. At least, not at a day old. That's why they drink their mother's milk," she informed him.

Draco threw his hands up in exasperation, "Well, where am I going to get that?"

"The parents didn't give you anything to feed the child? What's wrong with them?"

"There are no parents Granger!" Draco yelled furiously. He jumped up from the couch and pushed past her, then spun around to face her again, "That's _my _child Granger. And there is no mother! Not anymore. She's _dead_! Where the hell do you want me to get the damn milk?"

Draco stormed out of the room and somewhere distant she heard a door slam.

Hermione froze, not quite sure what had happened. She looked at the Mitzy, "I'll be back. Prepare the wards to let me in through apparition."

After a nod from the little elf, she was gone.

Fifteen minutes later she was back in Malfoy Manor, with a few shopping bags in her arms.

Using the formula she had bought Hermione was able to fix a bottle and was directed to a sleeping newborn. Obviously the crying had worn her out. Hermione gently took the baby from Mitzy and then went into the living room with the bottle in hand. She sat down as the baby woke up and gently propped her up with her arm holding the bottle for her to drink from.

The baby willingly began to suck on the bottle as Hermione wiped away the droplets of milk slipping down her chin.

"They said you came back."

Hermione looked up at Draco and removed the bottle from the baby's mouth.

"I wasn't going to let an innocent child starve," Hermione said, smiling down at the infant in her arms. She held the bottle again for her to drink.

"Where'd you get the milk?" he asked warily.

"From the store."

"I thought you said it-_she_ couldn't drink regular milk," Draco glared.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "She can't, this is a formula. To make milk for babies."

Draco watched her sceptically, "It's muggle?"

Hermione's jaw set as she looked at him angrily, "Yes Malfoy, it's muggle. I don't know how they feed babies without-" she stopped. Her eyes softened as her gaze flicked between the child in her arms and the man standing before her. After a moment of silence Hermione looked at him again, "Who's her mother?"

Draco looked away, "None of your business Granger."

"Fine." Hermione pulled the bottle away again and wiped away more milk. "Does she have a name?"

"You'd better be talking about the baby Granger," he warned.

"I was," Hermione assured.

Draco nodded, "Juliet."

"That's sweet. It suits her."

"Sweet? Granger, that baby just cried for nearly half an hour straight," Draco had a look of disgust on his face and Hermione glared at him.

"If I hadn't been fed I'd be upset as well," she defended.

"It hadn't even been that long."

"Babies need to be fed every two hours, sometimes more," she stated flatly, as if he should have already known this.

Draco looked at the bags beside her feet, "What's in those?"

Hermione used her foot to pull one of the bags towards her and then attempted to hold the baby, balance the bottle on her legs, and reach into the bag.

Draco strode quickly over to her, picking the bag up himself and peering inside.

Hermione went back to feeding Juliet while Draco started pulling things out of the bag, sitting down beside her.

"What's this?" he pulled out a can of the formula and Hermione began to explain.

"That's the formula for the milk. You mix it with water, and it goes from powder to liquid."

"I'm not stupid, Granger," he told her.

She sighed and took the bottle from Juliet, realizing she didn't want it anymore. "Of course you're not."

Draco set the can on the table along with a few others identical to it. "Kobs!" he called.

There was a loud _pop_ as an elf appeared in the room and bowed slightly to Draco.

Draco handed the cans to the elf, "This is to make milk. You'll need it within the next hour or so. There's powder in there and you mix it with-"

"Malfoy!" Hermione berated. "You need to learn to make it yourself. You won't always have a house elf with you."

"Whatever Granger." Draco turned to the elf, "Take these to the kitchen."

"Yes Master Draco," with a nod and another pop the elf was gone.

"Draco you can't make your elves do everything for you," Hermione shot at him.

He glowered at her, "Don't call me Draco."

"Sorry," she muttered. She hadn't even realized her mistake. It just sounded natural after hearing the elves say it so much.

He began to rifle through the back again until he pulled out something else unknown.

"What's this?" he demanded.

Hermione looked over at what he was holding. "That would be a pacifier."

Draco looked at the pink and white plastic, "What the hell is this for?"

"For a baby you dimwit. When they start to cry it soothes them," she said.

"What is she suppose to do with it?"

"You put it in her mouth."

Draco tossed it onto the table, "See this is why wizards are superior. Muggles have pacifeers," he attempted, "we, on the other hand, have silencing charms. Much more effective."

"Malfoy, you can't use a silencing charm on a baby!" she exclaimed.

"And why the bloody hell not?"

"Because that's inhumane!"

Hermione held Juliet in an upright position and began to pat her back gently.

"Granger, what are you doing to my child?" Draco asked.

"Relax Malfoy, I'm burping her."

"You're what?" Draco demanded.

"Burping her Malfoy," Hermione repeated. "Merlin you know nothing about babies do you?"

Draco shook his head looking down. Hermione finished burping Juliet and then handed her over to Draco. Draco held the baby in front of him, trying to readjust her in his arms.

"Well," Hermione stood up and pulled on her loose bun that was falling out of the elastic and bobby pins, "I'm off."

She shook her hair out and let it fall into soft curls down to the bottom of her shoulder blades. She used the bobby pins to sweep the side of her hair back, pinning it in place then tucked the elastic into her bag. "Now, you have the formula, there are bottles in the other bag, a couple of pacifiers, and...oh, there's a pack of diapers in there," she pointed to the bag, "I wasn't sure..."

Draco's head snapped up.

Hermione stared at him in shock, "You don't know how to change a diaper either do you?"

Draco shook his head, looking at the baby as if it were a bomb.

He hadn't thought any of this through. He hadn't really thought about anything. He was too focused on Pansy...

Draco held Juliet closer to him as the thought of Pansy entered his mind.

"Come on," Hermione beckoned, "I'll teach you how to change a diaper."

"The house elves will do it," he waved her away.

Hermione inhaled, trying to control herself, "No, the house elves _won't _do it. _You_ will do it."

"No I won't. Mitzy!" he called.

The little elf popped into the room, "Yes Master Draco?"

Draco stood and handed the baby over to the elf, "Here. The diapers and bottles are in those bags," he pointed.

The elf held the bag and snapped her fingers, levitating the bag as she walked out of the room.

Hermione shook her head at Draco in dismay. "Fine," she muttered. "Bye Malfoy."

Hermione prepared herself to apparate when she stopped. She hesitated before turning back to Draco. She summoned a piece of parchment and took a pen from her bag. She scribbled down her address then handed it to Draco.

"Why, Granger, do I need this?" Draco stared at the parchment.

Hermione sighed, "It's my address, my flat. Just in case you need more...guidance with Juliet."

Draco glared, "I won't need this." Just for good measure and to see her wind up Draco added, "The house elves will handle it."

Hermione bit her tongue, literally, to stop the outburst from slipping out as the argument formed in her mind. She pursed her lips, "You need to learn to grow up and handle yourself, on your own, and take care of your child." She dissapparated from the manor and Draco ran a hand through his hair.

He hadn't thanked her once.

**A/N: So there's chapter two. I hope you all liked it. Please review telling me your thoughts on it. Thanks tons for reading.**

**~Scarlett**


	3. Chapter 3

Draco shrugged his outer robe off and hung it on the back of his chair, sitting down and dusting the crumbs off the table.

Blaise stared at him, "You look like crap, mate," he noted bluntly.

Draco looked across the table at Blaise, who already had a drink in front of him. He raised an eyebrow, "You don't look so good yourself either."

Draco stopped a motioned to the bartender, leaning back in his seat so the guy could see him, and asked for a flamer, "Throw some scotch in it too," he added.

"Flamer? Before five?" the bartender looked sceptical but Draco glared.

"Just get me the damn drink," Draco snapped. The bartender held up his hands in defence.

"Sorry, sorry," he laughed a bit to himself before getting out the scotch.

Draco shot him another look before turning back to Blaise.

Blaise ran a finger around the edge of his glass, "You okay mate?"

"Just great," Draco grumbled sarcastically. The bartender handed him his drink and Draco poured a good third of the glass down his throat, ignoring the burn that made his throat feel raw.

They spent the next half hour in silence. With just the sound of the people around them and their glasses hitting the table after each drink, they were both alone, just happening to have another person at the table.

Eventually Blaise got up, a little more than tipsy, clapped Draco on the back and bid him goodbye before going to chat up some witch by the bar.

Draco grabbed his robe and stood as well. He was drunk, he had definitely drank more than Blaise, but even so he was able to maintain enough composure to seem stable as he apparated to his manor.

Upon appearing in the foyer he was met by one of the house elves, whose name he couldn't remember.

Draco nodded at the elf's greeted and then stumbled a bit as he headed towards the living room. Changing direction at the last minute and deciding he'd rather be elsewhere, Draco spun around and went down the corridor until he reached the large dark double doors, leading into the ballroom.

Draco threw the doors open and let them glide to a close behind him, forcing him to be inside the room completely.

The room was completely empty, except for the gleaming, black, grand piano in the far left corner, and the matching bench in front of it. Draco stormed over to it.

He threw his robe on top of the piano, then sat down at the bench and flipped the cover off the keys. He reached for his robe, pulling his wand from the pocket, and pointed it at the doors off to the side, leading to the balcony. Waving his wand the doors flung opens letting the warm, humid, air of the spring night fill the room.

Then, in the silence of everything, Draco began to play, hitting the keys loudly, making the piano play out a dark melody. No notes written out in front of him, just him and the piano.

It was hours later he was finished. The music had stopped emanating from the ballroom more than hour before and Draco was laying passed out on floor.

Until the wailing started. Draco awoke with a start, nearly bruising his cheekbone against the smooth, cold, marble beneath him.

His head was pounding as the wails continued coming from...somewhere in the manor.

Draco winced and got up. He grabbed his robe off the piano and left the ballroom, going off in search of a sobering draught.

As he stepped into the corridor the cries were magnified to what seemed like a thousand times louder. Draco let out a groan. It was too loud; the sound was too sharp and too loud.

"_Accio_ sobering draught!" Draco called pointing his wand in the general direction of the stairs. A small glass bottle, tinted blue, came flying down, landing in Draco's palm. He drank the entire thing and then called for Kobs.

"Yes Master Draco?"

"What is that incessant screaming?" Draco demanded.

"The baby," Kobs sighed in frustration and Draco's jaw clenched.

He took a deep breath, "Well where _is_ the baby Kobs?"

"The baby is being upstairs Master Draco," Kobs told him.

"_What happened_?" Draco asked.

"Kobs wouldn't know, Master Draco. The baby just keeps crying."

"Merlin." Draco's head was killing him and he was still waiting for the potion to take effect. He paused, "_Accio_ Granger's address."

Hermione glared at Draco as her socked feet landed on the cold marble flooring. She wrenched her arm from his grasp, "What the hell Malfoy?"

Draco pressed his fingertips to his temple at her yelling, "The baby's crying. Make it stop."

Hermione mouth dropped open in shock a little, "You brought me here against my will because _your_ child is _crying_?" she crossed her arms over her chest, suddenly feeling self-conscious in only her tank top and pyjama pants.

He raised an eyebrow, wasn't that what he just said?

Hermione stared at him in disbelief. "Damn it Malfoy, babies cry all the time. It's what they do. You need to figure out _why_ for yourself."

She was still being too loud and Draco cursed whoever made that draught. It was much too weak.

"Shut up Granger. Must you always yell?" he asked, irritated.

"I'm _not _yelling Mal-" she stopped as she looked at his face, glazed eyes, and overall dishevelled appearance, "are you drunk?" Her eyes narrowed and he waved a hand dismissively.

"I took a sobering draught."

"Well it isn't working," she stated blatantly. "No wonder you just came over to my house, kidnapping me."

He had to admit, under regular circumstances he would never ask for help with anything, especially not from her.

Draco clenched his teeth as the crying continued. "Make it stop."

"_She_ is not an 'it' Malfoy. And you can fix this yourself. I was about to eat dinner. I'm going home." Her tone was final as she turned away.

"Granger, you're already here. Can't you just be Little Miss Perfect and help out those in need?"

She raised an eyebrow, "Help out those in need? You're asking for my help?"

He sighed, this wasn't going to go anywhere and the wailing was ringing in his ears, "Yes Granger, your help, I am asking for your help. As in, will you please help me?"

Hermione smiled sweetly at him, "No." She turned around and got ready to apparate when Draco's hand encircled her wrist.

She glared at him over her shoulder, "Let go of me Malfoy," she ordered through clenched teeth.

Malfoy cautiously let go of her wrist and stepped back, "Please?"

"No."

"I'll pay you."

"I'm not going to be your servant Malfoy. I said no."

Draco smirked, "Fine. Then a silencing charm it is."

"You wouldn't. Besides, if you did I'm sure the ministry would have something to say about it," she challenged.

"Like I care," he replied coldly.

Hermione meet his gaze defiantly, "Fine. I'll help you."

"Good," his smirk grew triumphantly.

"I wasn't finished yet." She spoke slowly, "I'll help you. _But_ in return, from now on _you_ will take care of your child, not the house elves."

"You really think that's a good idea Granger?" he asked. "If the child dies it's over _your_ head."

"You already have my address," she shrugged, "it's not like I can revoke it. If you come to any sort of emergency I'll help."

"Alright. Fine," he agreed. There were going to be _a lot_ of emergencies.

"One more thing."

"What now?" he asked, clearly annoyed by all of the conditions.

"I don't _ever_ want you getting drunk while dealing with your daughter again, clear?" her eyes were threatening, even though they were only in line with his collarbone and he nodded. "Good. Now, where is Juliet?"

"Kobs!"

"Ah, ah, ah Malfoy," Hermione reminded, "no elves. You can get your daughter yourself."

"Yes Master Draco?" the elf bent at the waist, bowing.

"Um, never mind," Draco said sourly. "Or, actually, where is the baby?"

"She's being in her room sir," Kobs informed him politely.

Draco nodded slowly.

Hermione watched him. Slowly realization dawned on her face, then the expression was replaced with disbelief. "Oh my word, you don't even know where your daughter's room is, do you? Or are you just _that_ drunk."

"I'm not drunk."

"The baby is in the left wing master Draco. Upstairs, second room," Kobs pointed and Hermione smiled.

"Thank you."

"Miss is very welcome," Kobs bowed again before Draco dismissed him.

Draco led the way, the cries getting louder as they neared closer to the bedroom. As they reached the room the door was already cracked open and Hermione slipped inside while Draco hung back in the doorway.

The room was painted a pale yellow, with white furniture. The whole room seemed filled with sunshine. Well, except for the distressed newborn lying in the white, blue padded crib.

Hermione went over and lifted the tiny child out of the crib. She spotted the white rocking chair in the corner of the room and carried the little girl over, sitting down she began to rock Juliet until she calmed to just soft sounds of content.

Draco gradually shuffled into the room, he leaned against the wall casually, tilting his head back until it hit the sunshiny walls.

Hermione absentmindedly started humming to herself, "Golden Slumbers", and slowly Juliet drifted off into sleep.

"There," Hermione got up a moment later and rested Juliet back in her crib, "she's asleep." Hermione smiled down at Juliet, so peacefully, she really was a pretty baby. She already had the Malfoys blonde hair, just with a slight curl to it. Hermione touched one of Juliet's tiny hands and laughed softly, what being could be so small?

Hermione looked up from Juliet to Draco, taking in his profile. The smile slipped from her face. His hair was messy from sleeping on the ballroom floor, but it was his facial appearance that scared her a bit.

Looking at him she realized he looked...ghostly...more than usual anyway. He looked slightly sunken in and his pale skin and platinum blond hair stood out more than usual as well in contrast to the entire outfit of black he was wearing.

Each piece was a slightly different shade, but still. Black shirt, black pants, and black dress shoes.

He looked like he was attending a funeral. Or had just come back from one.

**A/N: So thanks very much for reading. Please review. Because if you don't...well...I don't know really. Something bad will happen. Like a chain mail. So...not really. But I'd appreciate it very much! :)**

**Anyways,**

**Scarlett**


	4. Chapter 4

Draco pulled a fairly thin, black tie from his chest of drawers and held it up to his gray button-down. His stood in front of the full-length mirror and looked at his reflection. No, he decided, no tie. He threw the tie on his bed leaving it for the house elves to deal with, along with the other shirts and trousers he debated on.

He paused remembering Juliet. He had been taking care of his daughter...to his best ability, keeping his word.

Not that it was easy; Draco had had no idea how much attention a baby really needed. The house elves were continuously offering to help their master but Draco reluctantly refused.

He wasn't quite sure why, it wasn't like Hermione would know if he accepted their volunteered help, but going against something Hermione Granger said seemed wrong.

He slipped on his shoes and let his bedroom, going downstairs to grab a glass of water before leaving for work.

He was a few minutes late arriving, but no one said anything. Most people in his department knew he was having 'personal, family, issues' and not to bother or question him about it. He was barely in his office for ten minutes when there was a knock at his door.

Langley poked his head in, "Mr. Malfoy? Ms. Granger is here...from the Muggle Liaison Office...sir?"

Draco sat up a little straighter, then relaxed back in his chair, crossing an ankle over his knee. "What does she want?" he demanded.

From outside the door Draco could hear Hermione huff, "This is ridiculous! I'm sure he is capable of asking me himself, William!"

Then Langley, "Ms. Granger, I wouldn't ad-advise you to just-"

"I'm going in."

Hermione waved her hand to the side, motioning for Langley to step aside from the door. Langley looked between Hermione and the door, "Ms. Granger I-I told you, you can't-"

Hermione looked pointedly at him, easily saying, 'Please move. _Now_.' And so he did.

Hermione stepped inside the office and Draco immediately tried to look busy with work. Hermione stood in front of his desk, waiting patiently for him to look up. When he made no move to acknowledge her presence she spoke up, "Hi Malfoy."

"Funny Granger, I don't recall actually _allowing_ you to enter my office," Draco sneered. He shuffled a few files together in a pile and then looked up for some sort of response from her.

"We never exactly finished our meeting that day," Hermione said. "I still need to go over your department and Zabini says you've been out the past week."

He actually had only been out for four days, not a week, but he wouldn't expect Blaise to keep track. He didn't bother correcting her either, it wasn't her business anyway.

He looked at her sceptically. She was wearing a brown, knee-length, pencil skirt with a cream, ruffled blouse. She was holding a brown, thin, briefcase that matched her skirt and her hair was tied to the side in a ponytail, falling in soft curls.

Hermione put her briefcase on the edge of his desk and unsnapped it. She pulled out piece of parchment and began to read off a few questions about the department. "...how many people do you have employed currently...?" She scanned the parchment to find her place and Draco stared uninterestedly at the wood of his desk. He heard her begin to continue and he cut her off.

"Who exactly put you in charge of this task, Granger?" Draco asked. "And do they know how much of a nuisance you really are?"

Hermione paused, no longer gazing at the parchment but at Draco. She opened her mouth to retort but closed it after a moment. She called upon every ounce of patience she had and then spoke, "Malfoy, how are you doing?"

Draco looked at her distastefully. "Why should you care Granger?" He sounded tired, as if he didn't care himself, but it was a valid question.

Her brow furrowed as she thought out her answer. Not sure exactly what to say, Hermione stalled, "I asked you first."

When Draco didn't say anything she pointed out, "After what you put me through the other day I deserve this much."

"What about what I've been put through?" Draco grumbled. Hermione couldn't decipher the words, just a low muttering to her ears.

"Malfoy, if you're here, who's watching your child?" Hermione questioned carefully.

Draco sighed, "Not that it's any of your business Granger but she's at the manor. Now how about you just finish your questions and leave."

"At your manor?" Hermione repeated, ignoring the latter part of his statement. "Well, _who,_ exactly, is taking care of her?"

Draco glared at her further questioning but answered anyway. "The house-" or started to answer her. Then he realized what he was doing.

"The _house elves_?" Hermione asked tightly. "I thought we agreed-"

"What did you want me to do!" Draco cut her off before she could make a point and jumped up from her desk chair. "You know what Granger? Not that I haven't already mentioned this, but my life is _not_ your business. Now get the hell out of my office!"

Hermione shot him a dirty look before sighing. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No. I don't want to talk about anything. I want you to get out."

"Fine." She paused thoughtfully. She looked at Draco, then to side and at the floor, on the fence about what she was going to do. She touched the back of her hair nervously before looking up again. "I'm going to go home and grab a few things, and then I'm going to your house. I'll take care of Juliet for the day and you can either stay here and work or take the day off. I don't care; it's...not my business."

"Damn straight," Draco muttered. "And why, pray tell, Granger would you do that?"

"Because you need the help," Hermione told him softly, yet confidently; she wasn't taking 'no' for an answer.

She duplicated the form of questions and handed the copy over to Draco, "Listen, get those filled out by the end of the week and send it to the head of department, alright? Until then you have today off and the rest of the week learning to deal with having a child, you got that?"

"You're telling me what to do?" he asked incredulously.

"Yeah," she smiled, "I am."

* * *

After changing into sweat pants and a comfortable v-neck she grabbed the onesies she had picked up and then apparated over to the Malfoy Manor.

Upon being let in and entering the foyer Hermione looked around. A house elf was by her side immediately. "Is there something Lenik can do for you Missus?"

"Yes, actually. Would you mind pointing me in the direction of little Juliet?" she asked.

Lenik nodded and extended an arm in a gesture for Hermione to follow. The message was lost with Hermione however, and she took the little elf's hand instead and let him lead the way. Lenik smiled up at her widely and tugged her gently down the corridor and towards the room she had been in just a few days prior.

She put her bag in the corner of the room and thanked the elf sincerely before walking over to the crib. She leaned over the white rail and realized Juliet was awake. The little baby gurgled and Hermione lifted her out of the crib gently, smiling at the little girl. "Good morning Juliet," she cooed.

Juliet squealed in response and reached up. Hermione laughed and touched the soft platinum hair on Juliet's head. "Come on," she said as she walked out of the room and navigated herself back to the living room from memory. She sat down on the couch with Juliet in her arms and called for Lenik, "Lenik? Can you come here for a minute, please?"

Lenik stood before her less than a second. "Yes Missus?"

"Can you tell me when the last time Juliet was fed?" she questioned.

Lenik nodded, "Lenik talked to Mitzy this morning Missus, Lenik believes Mitzy said the baby was fed early this morning."

"Oh, goodness," Hermione shook her head. "Okay, do you mind watching Juliet while I get a bottle ready? Just for a few minutes if you could just point me in the direction of the kitchen please?"

Lenik took Juliet from Hermione's arms gently, "I'd be happy to Missus."

Hermione thanked the elf and headed towards the kitchen. Upon entering the large kitchen Hermione hunted down the formula and busied herself with preparing the bottle.

Using her wand, she heated the bottle until it was luke warm and tested it on the inside of her wrist; just to be sure. She smiled at the finished product and then tried to find her way back into the living room where she found both Mitzy and Lenik with the baby.

"Thank you," she smiled at the two elves and then sat down on the black, leather loveseat and held out her arms for Juliet. Mitzy quickly, yet carefully, handed the child over.

Hermione easily balanced Juliet in the crook of her left arm and her lap and held the bottle with her right hand. Juliet gurgled as Hermione held the bottle to her mouth for Juliet to suck on.

"Missus, would you like Mitzy to handle the baby? Missus need not work," Mitzy offered.

"No," Hermione answered quickly. "This isn't work," she told her. "You two go ahead and relax. _You_ don't have to work."

The elves nodded and popped out of the room.

Hermione smiled, feeling accomplished, and continued to feed Juliet. She wiped away the dribbles of milk sliding down the little girl's chin with a bib she had grabbed from the kitchen. Hermione's smile widened as Juliet giggled and milk bubbled and dripped down onto her sleeper.

When she had finished feeding Juliet Hermione burped her and then put the bottle on the side table. She put her finger by Juliet's hand and watched as her little fingers curled around her pointer finger. Hermione lifted the little girl's hand with her own and couldn't help but smile even more if it was possible. She was so tiny. Hermione wanted to take her home. She was so small.

She looked at the pink sleeper Juliet was dressed in and frowned; it had wet spots of milk from the spot under her chin to just above her tummy. Hermione _accio_ed a onesie and put two cushions on the couch to lay Juliet down and change her. That is, until Hermione had unzipped Juliet's sleeper and realized there was more that needed changing.

"Oh Merlin," Hermione muttered before summoning diapers and everything else needed.

She took a deep breath, which turned out to be an awful idea, and then got to work with changing the baby's diaper.

A few minutes later when she was finally finished Hermione heard him speak up. "Having fun?"

Hermione barely reacted to the initial startle and turned to look at one Draco Malfoy, lingering in the doorway. "And how long have you been standing there?" she asked.

Draco shrugged and shook the blonde hair out of his eyes. "Long enough to be grateful I didn't come earlier."

"Well thanks. Has anyone ever told you how helpful you are?" she gave him a sarcastic look. "You didn't think to say something and announce your presence?"

"Nope," Draco smirked. "Believe or not Granger, but I kept to my word. I've experienced what you just did right there," he motioned at the scene of diapers, baby powder, and wipes, "and if I don't have to, I won't."

Hermione shook her head at him, "Well I suppose we can't expect everything to change."

"No we can't," Draco agreed. "If only the rest of the world could understand that."

"Well we don't all think like you, now do we Malfoy?"

"No. But if we all did I think we'd all be loads happier."

"Or loads worse."

"Possibly."

**A/N: Okay so I hope you enjoyed. Sorry it took so long. But thanks for reading and please review. They mean a lot.**

**~Scarlett**


	5. Chapter 5

"Good morning, all," Hermione greeted.

"Hey Hermione," Harry and Ron both got up to hug her hello.

"Harry!" Hermione kissed his cheek and hugged him back tightly. "Oh, I feel like I haven't seen you in so long."

As Harry released her and she moved to hug Ron Harry shrugged. "I suppose work took over?"

"Of course," Hermione said, hugging Ron and then handing him the fruit platter she brought with her. "I wasn't exactly sure what to bring to brunch this time," she smiled.

Ron looked at the fruit in disappointment. Harry nudged him, hard. "It's great Hermione," Harry reassured, even though he too, was slightly disappointed. "Mum's in the kitchen with Gin, why don't you take the fruit and go say hi."

Ron handed the tray back over to her and Hermione started towards the kitchen. "Wait, Ron," she called back, "I left the French Toast on the table near the door. Can you get that for me?"

Ron's face split into a wide grin and looked at Harry excitedly. "I knew it wasn't just fruit! She brought her French Toast!" Harry rolled his eyes a bit as Ron took off to the door to grab the basket of French toast.

Harry followed Hermione into the kitchen where Mrs. Weasley was flipping pancakes and Ginny Potter was making scrambled eggs.

Mrs. Weasley turned to greet Hermione as Hermione set the fruit platter on the counter and Ron came in with the French toast. After putting the basket of toast on the table Ron planted himself in a seat in front of it. Harry offered to help with anything, but Mrs. Weasley politely declined and told him to sit.

Hermione hugged both women and then she looked at Ginny. "Where's little James?"

Ginny sighed as she turned the frying pan and used spatula to push the eggs onto a large tray. "I think George and Dad took him…or maybe it was Charlie…one of my brothers anyway. They're outside."

"And. We. Are. Done," Mrs. Weasley announced, punctuating each word with the last of the pancakes dropping on the stack, one by one.

"Finally," Ginny said. She picked up the tray of scrambled eggs and handed them to Harry over the counter for him to place on the table.

Mrs. Weasley got the bacon and pancakes on the table, Hermione grabbing the syrup and sausage off the counter.

"Ron, Harry, set the table," Ginny ordered. Both men jumped to their feet and started to get the place settings out. George walked in along with Charlie and Mr. Weasley, James on his hip.

Hermione put the syrup and sausage on the table and went over to George— or really, James.

"Hi, James," she cooed.

"Oh don't mind me," George said. "I'm just his legs."

"Hi, George," Hermione added. James reached for Hermione and her curly brown locks, leaning toward her so much that George was forced to hand him over.

Hermione took the baby and rested him on her hip. James immediately reached up and began to twist his fingers into Hermione's hair.

"You're lucky he doesn't pull when it's yours," Ginny commented.

Hermione smiled at the little boy. "He's such a sweetie," she said. "Are you looking forward to your birthday James? You're going to be one year old. One whole year!" She held up one finger and James immediately grabbed that too. Hermione laughed.

In a week it would be James first birthday and they were all getting together at the Burrow for his party. James was growing quickly and had been crawling around like mad, and he really was adorable. Hermione fixed his little blue t-shirt as it twisted around him and then patted his little tummy.

Harry and Ron finished setting the table and Mrs. Weasley ordered everyone to sit down. Hermione put James in his high chair where a bowl of thinly cut watermelon and some cookies were waiting for him.

Hermione sat down beside him, Ginny on his other side and Harry beside her. Once everyone was seated, Mrs. Weasley looked around.

"Bill and Fleur aren't here," she noted.

"Right," Charlie said. "They couldn't make it. They're spending the weekend with Fleur's parents."

"Oh," Mrs. Weasley nodded, "that's right. Okay, tuck in!"

They all dug in and plates were filled and piled up with food within seconds. Everyone was eating and talking animatedly, but Hermione was only half-listening while eating and watching James.

However she was more than surprised when the conversation made an abrupt turn from the past Quidditch season to none other than Draco Malfoy.

She perked up in her seat at the name and tuned in to the conversation around her.

"Apparently they're going to court over it," Charlie was saying.

Hermione hadn't seen Draco in nearly two months even though it seemed longer than that. He never mentioned any sort of legal issues then. But then again, he hadn't said much of anything. She was still guessing how he had ended up with a child, though she had never really mentioned the incident with anyone.

"Who's 'they'?" Hermione questioned.

"Malfoy and the Parkinson's," Ginny filled in. "It was in the paper this morning. They're filing for custody over a child."

Hermione's eyes widened, "You're kidding."

Harry shook his head, "In fact, I remember reading Pansy Parkinson's obituary. But that was…a few months ago."

"Two months ago," Hermione corrected. "And…how did she pass again?"

"Giving birth," Mrs. Weasley said sadly. "Apparently to Draco Malfoy's child."

"And now the Parkinson's want full custody of the child," Ginny told her.

"Really."

"It's sort of ridiculous, really. What would Malfoy want with a kid?" Ron asked.

Hermione sighed, "I don't know."

"Exactly. You'd think he'd just hand the kid over and be done with it," George said.

Hermione was about to ask more questions but thought better of it. It wasn't any of her business anyway. Instead she forked a piece of her pancake, dipped it in her syrup and ate.

"So, Hermione," Ginny started, as the rest of the table moved on to talk about other things. Ginny leaned forward to see Hermione past James' high chair and continued, "I was talking to Gardner the other day and he was asking about you and—"

Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes. "Ginny, you have _got_ to be joking. I already told you, no. Would you stop trying to set me up with people?"

Ginny fed James a small cube of watermelon and then looked at Hermione. "You know, he still plays on the Harpies…he's very fit."

Hermione couldn't help but laugh at that point. "Ginny. Really."

"It would be one date," Ginny persisted. "It's not like you're busy!"

"Keep it down, please," Hermione said. "And I'll have you know I have quite a lot going on right now."

"With what? Work?" Ginny asked. "Hermione, you have no social life."

"Well don't sugar-coat it," Hermione said sarcastically.

"Sorry, but Hermione, honestly."

"James do you hear this? Your mummy is trying to set me up with someone again," Hermione looked at the little boy who slapped his hands down on his tray and gurgled. "I know," Hermione agreed. "It is outrageous."

James smiled widely and Hermione handed him another cookie that was just out of his reach.

"Hermione—"

"Ginny," Hermione mimicked her friend's tone. Childish, yes, but something she'd only do to Ginny. "No, okay? I'm perfectly fine being on my own right now. I'm twenty-three, I'm happy, and I don't need you to play match-maker for me."

"You're happy?"

Hermione sighed. She was happy. Maybe Ginny didn't see it; she was married and already had a little boy turning one. But Hermione had the Weasleys, and the Potter's, as her family. And that was good enough for her at the moment. She was happy.

"Yes Ginny," she said slowly.

"Fine, then."

Of course this was never the end of it. Whether it was Gardner or Harry's new assistant there was always going to be another conversation.

* * *

"Mr. Malfoy?" Langley knocked on Draco's office door and Draco looked up from the files he was going through.

"Come in, Langley," Draco called tiredly. He pulled a hand through his hair and then set the files aside. Picking up the Daily Prophet, he flipped to the page that he had now familiarized himself with since the day before.

He thought of Juliet, at home with the new nanny, and how she was oblivious to everything going on concerning her. Damn the Parkinson's. They had no right to Juliet.

Langley stepped into Draco's office timidly. "Mr. Malfoy, I just got an owl from a Rita Skeeter. She'd like an exclusive interview."

"On what?" Draco asked, pulling the page from the paper, balling it up, tossing it in the rubbish, and then setting it on fire in the bin, watching it burn with a set jaw and slight smirk. When Langley didn't answer, preoccupied and fearful as he too watched the flames consume the paper, Draco looked at him impatiently. "On what?" he repeated.

"On-on the c-custody," Langley stammered, "case."

Draco glared at his assistant. He pointed at the burning paper, "Are you the cause of this Langley?"

"No sir." William swallowed nervously. "I d-didn't tell a soul about any of it."

"Screw this," Draco said. He had never really thought it was Langley to begin with. He was certain it was Dirana and Bervex Parkinson from the beginning.

If they thought bringing this public was going to change his mind they had another thing coming. The only person he had told even half the story to was Langley, and the only ones who knew about Juliet were Blaise Zabini and Hermione Granger. Or, at least they _were _the only people. As of yesterday everybody knew. And everybody wanted the whole story.

Draco put a hand to his forehead and sighed. "Tell Rita Skeeter no." He paused. "Better yet, tell Rita Skeeter to go to hell and take her bullshit stories with her. What time is it?"

"Quarter past five," Langley replied after checking his watch.

Draco stood, set the files in a neat pile, grabbed his briefcase and left his office. "Bye Mr. Malfoy!" Langley called.

Draco ignored him and continued to the corridor before flooing back to the manor.

* * *

**A/N: Terribly short, I know. And I'm also quite aware I haven't updated this in a while. To JuliaMelanie, who inspired me to write and post another chapter, I hope you read this. **

**Please, please review, I could use a little encouragement.**

**Anyways,**

**Scarlett**


	6. Chapter 6

Draco stepped into the grand foyer of the manor and dropped his briefcase on the floor carelessly. He caught a glimpse of him in one of the many silver framed mirrors that hung on the wall and had to admit, he didn't look quite as astounding as he usually did.

He told himself that he would move on from it all. Life would go on as usual and he would forget until it faded to a vague time period. He wasn't really a father anyway and he wasn't father material. He could never picture that little girl looking up at him and calling him 'daddy' or 'dada'. He himself had only ever called his own father by just that, Father.

Draco was just kidding himself when he tried to take care of the child. It was ridiculous really to say the least. He had remembered what he had promised Granger that one evening, no more house elves to take care of the baby, he was to take care of her.

And he did— for a while. But then it got to be too much. Dirana and Bervex were at his throat, threatening and blackmailing him with everything they could. Blaise had begun pushing him with question after question. Everybody else was poking and prying their way into his business. And now he had to deal with the custody case.

Suddenly everybody cared. But they were caring for the crap that mattered three months ago, or even a year ago. The bunch of arses.

"Good evening Master Draco."

"On the contrary Kobs."

"Sorry, Master Draco."

Draco shook his head at the elf, dismissing his apology as being unnecessary. He walked further into the manor and sighed, "Is dinner ready?"

"Waiting on the table for Master Draco," Kobs replied.

"Has the nanny eaten yet?" Draco asked tiredly.

Kobs nodded. "Kobs saw Mitzy take the tray to the nursery."

Draco entered the large dining room and sat down at the head of the table where a plate of mashed potatoes, bread pudding and beef wellington awaited him.

He got Mitzy to fetch him a glass of scotch, which he washed down his dinner with before going upstairs to the nursery.

He opened the door to find Estelle, the nanny, on the rocking chair with Juliet in her arms.

She stood surprisingly easily and with good grace for a slightly heavyset woman in her late forties. Her grey hair was tied back in a neat and thick bun and she looked tired, even as she smiled at Juliet while settling her in her crib.

"Good evening, Mr. Malfoy," she said quietly.

"On the contrary, Estelle," Draco responded.

The woman just smiled at him and sighed. After working for him for only five weeks now she was already accustomed to his response. No afternoons, no evenings, no mornings, no nights, were ever 'good' in his eyes.

Most days he was home by at least six o'clock. He would eat dinner and then go up to the nursery, look around and then leave to do whatever else he thought to do in the manor. Occasionally he'd even go back out for drinks with Blaise.

Once or twice Estelle had caught Draco in the nursery at late hours of the night, the rocking chair pulled close to the side of the crib as he sat and watched his baby sleep, when she went to check on the child. The room she had been given in the manor was directly connected to the nursery, joined by a door off to the side. When she heard Draco enter the nursery on those nights she'd stay in her room until he had gone, letting him have the rare moments he took with little Juliet to himself. Just the two of them.

"I'm going to retire now Mr. Malfoy," Estelle told him. "She didn't make too much a fuss over anything today."

Draco nodded, "Good."

She gave him a curt nod as a bid of goodnight and then left to her room.

Draco went over to the crib and reached in, running his fingers over the little girl's soft, blonde hair. "Goodnight," he whispered.

* * *

Hermione paced the floor of her flat debatably. All day her mind had been stuck on Draco Malfoy. She couldn't help but wonder just what was going on.

It was two months ago she was in his house, holding his child and rocking the baby to sleep. And it was only now that everybody else was just finding out a little Malfoy even existed.

She sat down on her plush, periwinkle couch and picked up yesterday's Daily Prophet for the umpteenth time.

The article didn't say too much. It was short; the story being that Draco had a child out of wedlock with the late Pansy Parkinson. Now Dirana and Bervex Parkinson were going to court to try and get custody of the child and Draco was fighting to keep custody of her.

It didn't even mention the baby girl's name.

Hermione had been fighting with herself for the past three hours about whether or not to apparate or floo into Malfoy Manor to try and talk to Draco. She wasn't even sure if the wards would still let her in. And then even if they did, would Draco?

She finally summoned parchment, a quill and ink. She sighed as she began to write.

_Dear Draco,_

No.

She started over.

_Dear Malfoy,_

_I've read the Daily Prophet article and yes, I would like some questions answered. However, I'd also like to know if there's anything I can do to help._

_~Hermione Granger_

Before she could second-guess any of it she tied it to Margo's, her owl's, leg and sent it.

She finished the last quarter of her glass of wine before deciding she'd go to bed early. Changing into her pyjamas and finishing the novel she had started early that evening she closed her eyes and fell asleep, trying to get away from the anxiousness she felt at the possibilities of Draco's reply.

She slept recklessly and intermittently, waking up at odd hours before falling in and out of a light sleep again. She was beating herself up over sending the letter at all, wishing she could take it back.

He'd probably think she was prying like everyone else. Or maybe he'd think that she truly cared about him. She wasn't sure which was worse.

And maybe she did care. But only because she saw that he was in need of some help. Not because it was him specifically, only because he was someone who needed help, someone who was having troubles and she saw and knew she might be of some help.

Malfoy would most likely tell her he didn't need her help and, once again, tell her to mind her own business. She figured he'd get the letter, laugh and call her a bloody Gryffindor princess setting out to be everyone's heroine, and then refuse her help.

The next morning she realized she needn't worry. He hadn't replied at all.

* * *

"Granger."

Hermione looked up in surprise at the drawl. "Malfoy," she said.

He held up the same piece of parchment she had written on the night before. "I received your letter," he informed her.

She looked down at the report she had before her as she nodded, "Good to hear."

Draco glanced at his watch and then glanced back up at the witch in front of him, just as Hermione glanced up at him.

Their eyes met as Draco rolled his sleeves to his elbows, looking slightly more casual in his work clothes, long pants and a button down even as it was early August. He went up to her desk and looked at what she was working on.

He dropped the letter on top of the report she was reading over and then sat on a cleared space of her desk.

"What are you doing Malfoy?" Hermione asked, staring down at her own handwriting.

"Waiting for you to get your things," he replied easily.

"May I ask, why?"

Draco again looked at his watch. "We're going to lunch."

"How nice of you to _ask_," she said sarcastically.

He shrugged with a smirk, "You have no choice but to say yes Granger. I'm not asking. I'm telling."

"Well for one thing, you have no right to _tell_ me to do anything," she told him. "And another, I don't break for lunch until one thirty-five."

"You run the department Granger, I hardly think you'd be in trouble to leave a half hour early," he said, turning to give her an annoyed look.

Hermione looked at her own watch, "Forty-three minutes early, actually. And I set my own break time and I intend to stick to it."

Of course only Hermione Granger would practically be her own boss and force herself to stick to a schedule. One thirty-_five_?

"I don't care about the frigging forty-three minutes," he snapped. "Now get your things and let's go."

Hermione glared at him. "No."

"Granger, don't be so stubborn. Really, it's a tired role and it's bloody annoying."

Hermione stayed where she was and met his angry gaze head-on.

Draco stood and walked away from her desk. Malfoys always got what they wanted. They just had to know how to go about it.

"Fine. Bye, Granger." He walked out her office door and past her receptionist.

* * *

"All right Malfoy, just where are we going exactly?"

Draco smirked and looked around the busy streets. "Wherever," he said easily.

Hermione pointed left. "There's a nice place for lunch down that way. It's hardly ever busy."

Draco led the two of them through a small group of people standing the middle of the walkway, shouldering his way through and glancing back to make sure she followed him.

He nodded to her suggestion and they continued down the street.

"I don't understand," she said. "It's been more than two months now. I don't see how—"

"Really, Granger?" Draco interrupted. "You can't even wait until we get to the restaurant before asking questions?"

Hermione blushed just the tiniest bit. "You know, you dragged _me_ out of _my_ office, I think I have a right—"

Draco scoffed, "Right? Granger, there is no right. Besides, I didn't _drag_ you anywhere." He held up his hands innocently. "You _chose_ to follow me out to lunch."

"Would you quit interrupting me," she snapped. "I can ask as many questions as I want and you can answer whatever you please."

"Is this it?" Draco stopped in front of a glass door of small restaurant.

Hermione looked up at the sign even though she was quite familiar with the place. "Yep, this is it."

Draco pulled the door open and let Hermione through. "Thank you," she said.

"Welcome," he muttered.

A waitress behind the back counter gestured for them to sit anywhere in the fairly vacant restaurant. There was a table occupied by a middle-aged couple near the front, so Draco went towards the back corner and sat there.

Hermione sat down across from him and picked up the menu. Draco glanced at the menu on the dark, scratched wood of the table. He flipped it open, his eyes scanning over it briefly, before shutting it again and sliding it forward.

Hermione continued to read each option carefully as Draco leaned back in his chair seemingly bored.

An older waitress came over to take their orders. Once her quill had gotten it all down she took their menus and went back to the counter.

Draco's arm hung tiredly off the back of his chair. He looked at Hermione curiously.

"What?" she asked self-consciously. She brought a hand to her face. "Do I have something on my…?"

Draco shook his head. "No."

"Well would you stop staring at me please," she requested. "It's unnerving."

He ignored her comment completely and his head tilted slightly as he stared at her. "You don't look the same," he said. "Not like you used to."

"Like I used to?" Hermione repeated. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You look…" He wanted to say older but he knew that wasn't right. Neither was mature. "…different," he finished.

"From two months ago?" she asked.

"Granger, last time I saw you, you were in sweats," he reminded. "But, you don't really look like Granger anymore."

"Malfoy, I think maybe—"

"Your teeth and hair and—"

"I think we both remember when my teeth were fixed, Malfoy," Hermione cut in, talking over him and his thoughtful pause. "And my hair isn't as bad as it was when we were younger."

"your body," Draco said finally.

Hermione immediately turned scarlet and looked down at herself. She suddenly felt like the red, cap-sleeved summer dress she was wearing had a _too_ low neck-line.

Draco noticed her expression and smirked. "Granger. Learn to take a compliment."

"Slytherin Prince was complimenting the Gryffindor Princess?" Hermione asked teasingly. "_Someone_ must be rolling over in their grave right now."

He shook his head, "We're past that."

She smiled, "Yeah…guess it's a little late though."

He shrugged, "Not really. You never lose house pride. Trust me, I grew up in it and that was _years_ after my parents left the castle."

Hermione opened her mouth to say something but the waitress interrupted the thought with their meals.

They ate in silence for a minute before Hermione put down her fork. "What can I do to help?"

Draco swallowed and washed it down with a drink of water. "Pardon?"

"I read the newspaper article. Everyone was talking about it," she explained. "What can I do to help?"

"Nothing," he said.

"Well maybe if you tell me what's going on," she said. "I mean… the Parkinsons, right?" Her voice grew quiet and her speech slowed. He wouldn't tell her who the mother was the first time. He wouldn't tell her the second time either. She wouldn't ask even though it was a question that had just been begging and begging to be asked.

But now she knew. And so did everyone else.

"Yeah," Draco nodded. "Dirana and fricking Bervex."

"What exactly is going on? I mean it's been a while and it's not like…"

"I don't know," he shrugged. "But, no, there's nothing you can do to help."

"Malfoy, there has to be something," she insisted. "You're fighting for custody aren't you?"

Again he shrugged.

She repeated her question. "You're fighting for custody aren't you?"

He shrugged.

"Malfoy!" She slapped her hand down on the table, and then lowered her voice. "I'm just trying to help. This is your daughter. Are you trying to hold on to her or not?"

Trying to hold on to her…

"Look Granger," he said. "I didn't bring you here so that you could get involved." She gave him a serious look. "I don't want to give Juliet up," he told her finally. "I'm fighting for custody."

She could tell he didn't want to talk about it. She could tell that he didn't want to tell anyone yet. She realized that he really hadn't taken her out of her office to get her involved.

"Good," she smiled slightly. "So then why did you bring me here?"

He checked his watch. "Do you have to be back at two twenty-six or something else ridiculous?"

She rolled her eyes and took a sip of water while she considered this. Typically, she did go back to work at two forty, but today she felt like an exception was necessary.

"No," she said.

It wasn't like him at all. He wasn't sure what possessed him to say it. But next thing he knew he had asked, "Feel like blowing it all off and going for a walk?"

She was taken aback for a second. But then she realized that it was Draco Malfoy. Draco Malfoy, the man who does what he wants for his purpose. Selfish.

He wasn't asking because of the beautiful weather outside. He was asking because it was what he needed.

There was something she could do to help.

"Sure."

**A/N: There's chapter six. Hope you liked it. Hope people are actually reading this. Thank you to JuliaMelanie for the kind message and to everyone who is still following this or who is just happening to read it now.**

**Please review it means tons.**

**Anyways,  
Scarlett**


	7. Chapter 7

"Where do you want to go?" Draco asked.

Hermione stared at him for a second before her expression changed to something more decided. Slowly she said, "How about a playground?"

"What?"

"There's one by my old neighbourhood," she told him. "Come on." In the busy streets, without asking, Hermione Granger took Draco Malfoy's arm and disapparated.

"What the hell?" he demanded as soon as everything stopped spinning and they had landed on the sidewalk that bordered a neighbourhood playground.

"This," Hermione gestured around, "is where I grew up."

"Here?"

"This neighbourhood, yes," she nodded.

"What is this?" he asked.

"You've never seen a playground before?"

"Of course I've seen a playground before, Granger," Draco snapped. "I want to know what we're doing here."

"Shut up and come on," Hermione sighed. She grabbed his hand and pulled him to walk into the sand. Draco looked down in displeasure as the grains of sand slipped into his shoes and dusted his slacks.

Hermione continued to tug him over to the swing set, sitting down on one swing and gesturing for him to sit on the other. He stayed standing in front of her and gave her a blank look, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Sit. Down," she ordered.

He walked over to the swing and looked at the rubber seat in disgust. He brushed imaginary dirt off of it before sitting down reluctantly. "This is so muggle," he complained.

"So we're past house rivalry but not the prejudices?" Hermione questioned with narrowed eyes.

He shook his head. "No. We're past all of that. But it's fact. This is muggle. Very much so."

Hermione sighed and looked down at the sand, kicking off her tan peek-toe shoes and buried her feet in the warm sand. She pushed herself back and forth and looked back at the green and yellow play structure behind them. "When I was younger," she started, "I used to come here with my mum and dad after dinner every day."

Draco looked at the faint smile across her features. "When I was younger, I'd read my potions book after eating dinner alone in my nursery."

"Poor little Draco," Hermione cooed.

He swung sideways and body-checked her side gently.

"Sorry," she apologized. "So…other than everything you don't want to talk about, how has life been?"

"Life has sucked," he told her. "Life always sucks."

"Merlin," Hermione laughed, "what a pessimistic way to live."

"That's not how I _live_," he corrected, "it's how I _think_. If it was how I lived I'd have avada-ed myself ages ago."

"Again," she said, "so negative. I think you need counselling."

He hummed in distaste and shook his head.

"Let me guess," she looked at him, "people suck too."

"Now you're getting the idea," he nodded.

"All people?" she asked.

He paused. "Just about."

There was a moment of silence as Hermione swung back and forth absentmindedly.

"What's that?" Draco pointed to a long plank centered on a triangular piece.

"A seesaw," Hermione answered. At his blank look she added, "A teeter totter."

He stared at her.

"Malfoy, when was the last time you were at a proper playground?" she jokingly asked.

"Never."

"You've never seen a seesaw?" Hermione hopped off her swing and Draco followed her.

"No," he told her. "I've never really _been_ to a proper playground. Or any playground for that matter." He shrugged, "Used to pass by them when I was a kid, nobody ever let me play."

"That's so sad," Hermione frowned. She looked at him, "Kids can be so mean."

"Not the kids, Granger," Draco scoffed. "My parents and nannies and house elves."

"Oh."

He looked at the contraption for a moment before sitting on one end. He jumped slightly when his feet hit the ground and the other end of the teeter totter went up. He got off quickly and Hermione laughed. She pulled the other end down and sat, carefully in her dress, straddling the seesaw. "Get on that end," she instructed.

Draco looked at it for a moment before easily pulling the other end down and sending Hermione up. He sat down and stared up at her, shielding his eyes from the sun.

"You're heavier than me," Hermione stated.

Draco chuckled, "No shit, Granger."

She ignored his comment and looked down at the teeter totter. "Move closer to the middle," she ordered. He did as he was told with a roll of his eyes. "Stop!" she said.

He froze where he was on the muggle play structure and then raised an eyebrow at the woman facing him. Draco rose off the ground just slightly. His toes still rested on the sand and he pushed off the ground a bit to send himself higher. Hermione shifted back a bit on her end and slowly her side went down and Draco's rose up.

She pushed off the ground and they teetered slowly, back and forth.

"Malfoy," Hermione looked across at him and sighed. There didn't seem to be a finish to her sentence as she tilted her face towards the sun and closed her eyes.

"Draco," he said.

"Hmm?" she hummed.

He chuckled. "My name's Draco, Granger."

"And mine's Hermione," she told him.

"Hermione," he repeated. He shook his head. "Granger," he decided.

She had to admit, hearing Hermione from his lips that way didn't sound normal. Draco, however, seemed to roll off her tongue like it was already familiar.

She shrugged as she was lifted off the ground again. "Tell me something," she started.

Draco looked up at her and then pushed off the ground. "Go on."

"Why do you work?" she asked.

He laughed. A nice, low, yet clearly audible sound that made Hermione laugh as well.

"Why do you want to know?" he questioned back. "You plan on firing me, Granger?"

"I don't think I'm qualified," she told him. "But…I'm just curious. Everyone knows you have more than enough money to live comfortable for at least your next two generations."

Draco shrugged. "That is true. I never thought I'd work seriously either," he agreed. "But, I mean, I didn't have much else to do. So I figured what the hell?"

"Why the ministry then?"

"I don't know," Draco said. "It seems simple enough. My job is sort of a joke."

"It is not," Hermione contradicted.

"Granger," he gave her an incredulous look, "my job is to shuffle through papers and files and lie to muggles."

"You keep balance," she said. "Without you the wizarding world wouldn't function. Everything would be exposed."

Draco shook his head and squinted in the sun. "You want my job, Granger?" he joked.

Hermione laughed, "I'm good, thanks."

There was an awkward moment of silence between the two of them, falling suddenly and quick, but lifting just as quickly.

"So Granger," he looked down at her as she pushed off the ground. At the brief moment there were at eye level he continued, "What have you been up to?"

Hermione laughed, "Asking gets you answers, Draco. Would you really like to know the long and boring tales?"

He shrugged, "If I didn't want to know I wouldn't have asked, now would I? Besides, I have time."

"Where to start?" Hermione asked.

"After Hogwarts," Draco said. "Last I heard, you were…dating Weasley and going back to write your N.E.."

"Well," Hermione sighed. "Ron and I broke up a few months after…"

"What happened?"

Hermione was glad she didn't get the typical response of 'that's too bad' or 'I'm so sorry' from him. She and Ron were still friends and everything was better that way, when they broke up neither of them saw it as a bad thing at all.

"We bickered a lot," Hermione explained. "It seemed unhealthy considering how much better off we were as friends. There wasn't anything _there_, you know?"

Draco nodded.

"Anyway," she continued, "once I passed my N. E. W. T.s, I left Hogwarts and got a job at the ministry. Since then I've been jumping from job to job and department from department."

Draco thought back to when she'd explained why she left the magical creature area of the ministry. She'd said it had become too 'routinely'.

"Do you even like your job?" he questioned.

She looked shocked, "I—I…of course—"

"Seriously, Granger?"

"It's…good," she smiled weakly.

"Granger!" he exclaimed. "You hate your job!" he accused. "Don't you?"

She lowered her voice and spoke through a tense jaw. "I do _not_."

"Yes, you do!"

"Shut up."

"Admit it."

"Shut. Up."

"Granger," he sang. "Admit it."

"You know what?" she said loudly. "Maybe I don't _love _my job as much as I thought I would, but I don't hate it."

"Alright Granger, whatever you say," he waved her off. "Back to your life story. Go on."

"Okay. So…"

* * *

It hours later when Hermione slipped her shoes back on and asked Draco for the time.

"Half past five," he said.

"Wow," Hermione said in surprise. "We've been here a while then."

Draco shrugged. It hadn't felt like that long.

"You probably have to get back then, right?"

"To work?" Draco asked. "No—"

"I meant Juliet," Hermione interrupted. "I mean…"

"No, she's with the—"

Hermione's eyes widened and then fixed into a glare. "House elves?" she guessed angrily.

"Calm down, Granger," he said. "The nanny."

Her eyes widened again. "A nanny! Is she qualified?"

"Qualified?"

"What's her name?"

"Estelle," Draco told her.

Hermione waited. "What? Does she not have a surname?"

"Yeah." Draco racked his brain. "Estelle…Peters?"

"Peters?" Hermione repeated.

"Patterson?"

"Patter—"

"I don't know!" Draco threw his hands up in exasperation. "Something with a 'P'!"

"Draco!"

"She's perfectly trustworthy though," Draco assured. "Besides, I had nannies all my life and I turned out fine."

She gave him a questioning look.

"Look, do you _want_ to interrogate the woman?" he asked.

Hermione scoffed. "_No._" He sighed. "I'd simply like to meet her."

"Granger."

"Draco, I'm serious. She's taking care of your daughter. A daughter you are _trying_ to keep custody of. Not knowing a thing about your nanny really isn't reassuring to anyone."

"Fine."

"Fine?"

"Yes, _fine_ Granger. Let's go."

"Go?"

"To the manor," he said obviously. "Do you want to meet Estelle or not?"

"Alright. Great, let's go."

Draco held out an arm and Hermione took it willingly. "Ready?" he asked.

"Certainly," she replied.

* * *

Next thing she knew she was striding about the Malfoy manor foyer. She went up the grand staircase leading upstairs in a rapid pace, leaving Draco to try and figure out just which way she had gone, and turned into the left wing. She passed a bathroom, bedroom and powder room before finding the pale yellow bedroom she remembered.

"Granger," Draco jogged down the corridor to catch up with her. "What are you doing?"

"Where's the nanny?" she asked in response.

He sighed and pointed to the next door. "That's the nanny's _room_. But I don't know where she is."

She gave him an expectant look.

"Kobs!" he called.

The elf popped into the corridor in front of them. "Yes Master Draco?"

"Where are Estelle and Juliet?"

"The gardens," Kobs said. "It's nearly dinner time Master Draco. Is there something yous like?"

Draco shrugged and looked at Hermione. "What do you feel like?"

"I'm staying for dinner?" she raised an eyebrow.

Draco nodded. "Yeah," he told her nonchalantly.

"I never agreed to that."

He looked at her, "Does it look like I give a damn?"

"Yes," she grinned.

"Miss will be joining for dinner?" Kobs asked.

"Yes," Draco answered. "Whatever is good."

Kobs nodded and then popped out again.

"Is that how you invite everyone to dinner?" Hermione questioned.

He winked, "Don't feel too special."

"No worries," she assured. "Now where's the nanny?"

He laughed. "You're kidding. You can meet her at dinner."

Hermione agreed begrudgingly. "Fine."

"You want a tour of the place?" he offered.

"If it will take up time."

"Oh, it will."

* * *

As they made their way through the first course of dinner Hermione wondered how Draco managed to stay fit.

The meal was delicious and rich and they hadn't even gotten to the promised desert yet. Estelle seemed more than kind. Soft looks, simple clothing, a nice yet firm voice. She had been taking care of Juliet for weeks now and everything seemed to run smoothly.

Over desert, mouth-watering raspberry cheesecake, they laughed and talked about whatever came to mind. All the while watching Juliet laugh and gurgle and smile.

Her laughter was melodic now. At nearly three months old she laughed for real, happily and excitedly from her baby seat.

After tea and coffee Hermione decided it was getting late and that she ought to head out.

"It was nice meeting you," she told Estelle politely.

"Pleasure," the elderly woman replied sincerely. "I hope to see you around here more often."

_I hope so too_, Hermione thought.

Hermione smiled, "Thanks." She turned to Draco, "Goodbye then."

It was awkward for a moment and then Estelle, whilst holding Juliet against her chest, the baby's head on her shoulder, moved forward and gave Hermione a one-armed hug.

Hermione hugged her back and then turned to hug Draco as well. "I'll see you then," she said. Draco tentatively began to hug her back as she let go.

"Right," he agreed, feeling stupid and inadequate. He composed himself quickly. "Bye, Granger."

She grinned. "Bye Draco."

**A/N: So sorry it's terribly short, I know. It's been a dreadful week though so I figured I'd post this. Please review. I'd really like it if you did. **

**Hope you liked it.**

**Anyways,**

**Scarlett**


	8. Chapter 8

"She seems like a lovely young woman," Estelle commented.

"What?"

"Hermione," the woman clarified. "She seems like an intelligent and sensible young woman. Very nice."

"Also bloody stubborn," Draco added.

Estelle smiled, "She's got a good head on her shoulders. I can tell."

"She's a real pain in the arse."

"She's rather pretty too," Estelle continued.

Draco couldn't help his smirk. "She didn't look like _that_ in school."

"She seems to have put you in a good mood." Estelle adjusted Juliet in her arms as she realized the little girl had fallen asleep.

Draco shook his head, "Granger," he muttered.

"Alright, Mister Malfoy," Estelle sighed. "I'm going to go lay Juliet down."

Draco nodded absentmindedly and just as Estelle turned with Juliet in his arms he spoke. "No," he said.

"Pardon?"

He held out his arms, "No, I'll take her."

"Are you sure?"

"Give her here," Draco ordered, "you rest."

Estelle didn't protest and easily handed the child over. "Goodnight Mister Malfoy."

He nodded and a small smile graced the woman's aging features. She turned from the room went upstairs; straight to her own room for once. Quietly she walked down the corridor and into her bedroom, turning on the lamp and letting out a content sigh.

Draco held Juliet how he saw Estelle hold her, cradling her to his chest, her little limbs tucked in his arms. He kissed the top of her head and then took the stairs slowly and carefully. He caught a glimpse of himself in the corridor's mirror and stopped. He stared at his reflection. He wore one of his typical outfits, an expensive grey button-down (the sleeves rolled up) and black slacks. His hair fell un-gelled in a platinum and somewhat messy style. The same colour of the fine hair on top of the small head he supported in his large hand.

He looked slightly different.

He looked like a father. Almost a dad.

* * *

Hermione braided her hair to the side and pushed her bangs away from her face. She smacked her freshly coated, pink lips together and fixed her green strapless dress. Checking her watch she smiled. Impeccable timing.

She grabbed the shrunken present she had prepared nicely and grabbed her wand before apparating out of her flat and to the Weasleys.

"Hello," Hermione called as she tucked her wand away into the pocket of her dress she had enlarged.

"Hermione!" Ginny squealed from somewhere else. "Yay! You're here!"

"Where are you, Gin?" she asked.

"Hermione!" Harry exclaimed; his arms wide open for her.

Hermione grinned and hugged him tightly. "Harry, where is everybody?"

"Outside in the back," he told her. "It's sweltering hot out there but we put up a tent. And there's a ton of drinks going around."

"Really?"

"I say, it's too hot out there anyway but what do I know? Ginny says it's beautiful."

"It is beautiful out there," Hermione said.

"You're wearing a dress," Ron told her flippantly as he came inside. "You have no sleeves. Of course it's beautiful outside."

"Oh come on you two," Hermione laughed. "Let's go, outside." She began to usher them out the back door.

"It's too hot!" Ron roared. "No!"

Hermione rolled her eyes and got out her wand. A light blue light quickly burst from her wand, hitting Harry before she cast another to Ron.

They both jumped a little before looking at each other and grinning widely. "Cooling charm," Harry shook his head, "why didn't I think of that?"

"Because you're sweaty and slightly panicky over your son's first birthday," Hermione said. "Now come on. Outside. Let's go."

The two men shrugged and went out the back door, Hermione following behind with James' present.

"Harry, I need you to put the banner up now," Ginny instructed, little James sitting comfortably on her hip. "And the balloons…Ron!"

Ron's eyes widened and he jumped. "What? What did I do?"

"The balloons!" Ginny exclaimed. "I asked you to blow up the balloons and you just left them there! One task! That's all I asked!"

Ron shot Harry a look, trying to convey the message of 'control your wife' but Harry just shrugged in response, 'she's your sister'.

"Where're your mum and dad and George and Bill and Fleur and Charlie and…who have I missed?" Hermione asked.

"Percy and Audrey," Ginny supplied. "And Mum and Dad are out getting…something. George had to close the shop, Bill and Fleur and Victoire are on their way. Charlie's running late for some reason or another."

Hermione nodded. "Okay, well what else needs to be done?"

Ginny began listing to herself, "The banner, balloons—"

"And why can't I use magic for those?" Ron asked.

Ginny glared, "Knowing you, they'd burst. What else?"

"I'll get the balloons done with Ron," Hermione said. James began to squirm restlessly in Ginny's arms. Hermione walked over and took him from Ginny, "He can open my present now and you go ahead and help Harry with the banner."

Ginny sighed and nodded, pulling back her red locks and going over to Harry and the banner. Harry mouthed a quick 'thank you' to Hermione before working on the banner with Ginny.

"Come on James," Hermione bounced him on her hip and then set him down on the grass next to his present. "Ron," she called, "bring the balloons here."

Ron did so without protest and Hermione pulled out her wand, blowing up a few of them before sitting and pulling James in her lap, helping him unwrap his gift and laughing as he smiled and became enthralled with the wrapping.

"Hogwarts: A History?" Ron said incredulously. "Really, Hermione?"

"Everyone should have one," Hermione defended. "Here, James." She unburied the building blocks she had gotten him from beneath the wrapping paper and put them in front of the little boy. He played with the wrapping a little longer before picking up the blocks and clapping them together.

Ron picked up a few of the balloons and pulled his wand from his shorts' pocket. "You know, she really likes to think I'm useless," he commented, looking over at his younger sister and shaking his head.

"She's just a little stressed, is all," Hermione assured.

Ron rolled his eyes a bit. "For heaven's sake, though. I'm a bloody auror now; I think I can handle a few balloons." To prove his point he blew up a several balloons via magic and Hermione laughed.

"We all know you're capable, Ron," she laughed. "So anyway, how has the week of an auror been?"

Ron chuckled, "Pretty uneventful to be honest. Filed reports and crap. What about you?"

"A lot like yours then actually," she said. James threw a one of the blocks and it bounced off Ron's knee. He picked it up and gently tossed it back to James. It landed in the one year old's lap and Hermione looked at Ron. "Careful," she warned.

"It barely touched him!" Ron exclaimed.

Hermione said, "Yes, but a little harder and it would have hit him."

Ron inflated more balloons and Hermione followed suit.

"Hermione!" Ginny yelled from across the tent. "Does this look straight?" She gestured to the banner and Hermione looked at it scrutinized it.

In dark blue lettering it read _Happy 1__st__ Birthday James!_

Harry gave Hermione a pleading look and she nodded. "It looks straight."

"_Looks_ straight?" Ginny repeated. She stepped back a bit and stared at it. "I don't know—"

"It's straight!" Harry said quickly. "If Hermione agrees you know it is. She's a perfectionist about these things."

Ginny nodded. "Alright, well—"

The distant sound of the floo was heard and Ginny forgot what she was saying and went inside. "George!" she exclaimed. "Angelina!"

Hermione craned her neck around to see George and Angelina Johnson coming out of the house.

"Hey, Hermione, Harry Ron," Angelina greeted.

Hermione smiled at her, "Hello."

George grinned. "Hey, 'Mione, Harry, Ronnikins."

"Hey George, Angelina." Harry called.

Hermione stacked a few of the blocks in front of James and watched him push them over in glee. She glanced back and George and Angelina. Everyone knew they were going to get together soon. But so far they were only friends. Just friends. What a lie.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley apparated into the yard looked around.

"Alright, Ginny," Mrs. Weasley said. "Looks like everyone's about here. I'll go put the food to warm while we wait on the others."

Ginny nodded and looked over at Hermione, Ron and James. "Ron," she said, "could put the balloons up now? Please," she added.

Ron got the balloons and began to put them around the tent. Hermione turned to Angelina, "I'm going to go help Molly in the kitchen. Could you keep an eye on James?"

Angelina nodded eagerly. "Yeah sure. You go ahead." Hermione waited until the other girl had sat down behind the little boy before leaving to go inside.

She went into the kitchen and helped Mrs. Weasley with the very last of the food preparations. By the time the food was finished and brought out, everyone had arrived and was hungry and the party began.

* * *

It was early evening by the time James' birthday party ended. The little boy had fallen asleep and his parents decided it was about time they took him home. Hermione was tired too. Only six o'clock, still plenty bright outside, but she was perfectly content on just going home, having a light dinner and watching a movie relaxed on her couch.

She apparated into her apartment and kicked off her sandals, then fixed them neatly on her shoe mat. She headed straight into her bedroom and changed into her pyjamas, a pink t-shirt and gray shorts.

Mrs. Weasley had fed everyone a little too much at the party and Hermione couldn't fit another full meal into her if she was force fed. She put on a pair of ankle socks and padded into the kitchen and opened the fridge. She poured herself a glass of milk and then went into her living room, falling back into the 'L' of her sofa and grabbing the remote and a coaster for her glass on the side table.

She turned on the television and started flipping through channels. There was a loud and slow knock at the door.

Hermione sighed and got up from the sofa and hesitantly went towards the door. She wasn't expecting anyone, although sometimes Harry, Ron, or Ginny would stop by. But she had seen them just minutes ago. She looked through the peep hole and stepped back a bit. She looked again and then again stepped back.

Forgetting the chain on the door she tried to open it. The door stopped with the chain and Hermione looked at him through the opening.

"Is everything okay?" she asked immediately. "What are you doing here?"

"Granger," he said, standing up straight and looking surprised. "What are you doing in there?"

"What do you mean? This is where I live," Hermione told him.

"I've been standing here for nearly half an hour. You weren't home," Draco said. "How'd you get in there?"

"I apparated."

"Straight into your flat?"

"Yes." She blinked at him, confused and he tilted his head a bit to look at her through the door.

"So anyone can just apparate straight into your flat?" he asked. "Do you have any idea how dangerous—"

"Not anyone," she said. "I have wards up. And hardly a few know my address anyway."

Draco shook his head.

"Well what are you here for anyway?" she asked, pressing herself against the door to see him as he moved.

"I had something to tell you," he explained.

"Oh." She shut the door in his face and he sighed. He turned to leave and go home when there was a rattling and the door opened again. "Do you want to come in?" Hermione offered.

He shrugged, "Sure."

She opened the door wider and let him in. He noticed her shoes, neatly organized on the mat and he raised an eyebrow. She gave him and his shoes a pointed look and he rolled his eyes and took off his own black shoes. "Do you want something to eat or drink?" she asked.

"Not unless you have scotch," he said.

She shook her head, "Nope. I have coffee, though."

"I take it black."

Hermione went into the kitchen and started making the coffee while Draco leaned on the island. "So what did you come here to tell me?"

He paused. "I went to Diagon Alley today. I was bombarded by press questions. The nosy arses."

"What were you in Diagon Alley for?" she asked over her shoulder as she continued on with the coffee at the counter.

"I was going to meet Blaise at the Leaky Cauldron, decided not to go after all," he shrugged.

"I don't mean to be a nosy arse," Hermione started, " but when exactly is your court date anyway?"

"There isn't one," he said dismissively.

"What do you mean there isn't one?" she demanded.

"Well Bervex and Dirana, the Parkinsons, got the press and their fricking lawyers involved and crap but they can't actually fight me for custody."

"Because…" she fiddled with the coffee beans and pulled down a mug, "because you're the biological father," she finished.

He nodded, "Exactly."

"So then why did they bother with the press?" Hermione questioned aloud.

"I don't know," he hopped up on the island and swung his legs around to face her back. "They think they have some right to Juliet because Pans put their names on a couple of the forms."

Hermione sighed. "So you're not fighting for custody."

"Technically no. But the Parkinsons are trying to fight their way into Juliet's life and I'm trying to stop them. That's fight enough," he smirked, sort of tiredly. "I talked to my lawyers though and since I'm technically capable of taking care of Juliet, the Parkinsons have nothing over me."

"Then why all the fuss?" Hermione asked, opening a drawer and getting a spoon to stir the coffee, bumping the drawer closed with her hip.

"Because they're rotten people in general and I don't want them anywhere near my kid," Draco snapped.

"I see," Hermione smiled. "Here you go. Black coffee."

Draco took the mug from her and sipped. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," she replied. She went over to the couch and waved Draco over. She picked up her glass of milk and drank a bit.

He followed her with his coffee and looked at her. "Where have you been?" he asked curiously.

"Why do you ask?"

"Well because this," he gestured from her neck up, "looks dolled up, and _this_," he gestured to the rest of her, "looks…"

"Like slop?" Hermione supplied.

"Sure," he grinned.

"I was at one year old's birthday party. And I am not 'dolled up'," she protested.

He chuckled, "I can see that. Why is it that I am constantly seeing you in your pyjamas and track clothes?"

She rolled her eyes and plopped herself back on the couch. "Shut up. You interrupted what was supposed to be my relaxing time."

He sat down as well. "I could relax."

"Fine," she said. She sipped her milk and he drank his coffee and she flipped through more channels.

"This is relaxing?" he asked. "You're giving me a headache."

She found a John Hughes movie and left it on that. "Well, that's good to hear," she commented.

"What's good to hear?"

"How everything's going," she said.

"Granger, if that's good what the hell do you consider bad?"

"It's better Draco," she told him. "It's better, and that _is_ good."

"Whatever Granger."

* * *

"You should go," Hermione yawned and looked at the clock.

"Alright." Draco stood.

Hermione realized how that sounded. "I'm not trying to be rude," she added quickly. "But it's almost nine thirty, you have a baby at home—don't you dare tell me the nanny will handle everything—and I'm tired. Go home Draco."

He nodded, "Bye Granger."

"Goodbye Draco," she smiled. She walked him to the door and opened it to let him out.

"You've got wards up?" he checked.

"Swear to Merlin," she said, exasperated.

"See you Granger."

**A/N: Thanks for reading! Hope you liked it! I had a crappy, crappy day so I stayed up to post this. But you don't care so I won't babble. **

**Please review!**

**Anyways,**

**Scarlett**


	9. Chapter 9

Draco dressed for work and went downstairs. He ate his regular Thursday breakfast—scrambled eggs, toast and bacon along with a glass of pumpkin juice—already waiting for him on the table, thanks to the house elves. Once finished, he wiped his mouth with a napkin and went up to the nursery, Juliet's room, where Estelle was feeding Juliet her bottle.

Some mornings Draco would have breakfast with Estelle, whilst they took turns with Juliet until they had both finished their own meals and Draco had to leave for work. But on the busier mornings he had to get somewhere, he'd eat by myself and leave Estelle to do her work.

He pushed the folded, three-quarter length sleeves of his blue button down up a bit and checked his watch. It was a minute past eight and he had to get to an eight o'clock meeting. Or, he was supposed to. But he was one of the heads of the meeting anyway, it's not like they could do too much without him. He went by floo and was in his office by seven past eight.

"Mister Malfoy," Langley said as Draco tried to slip into his office unnoticed.

"What?" he snapped impatiently.

"You received an owl from Mister Zabini," he said.

"I'll get it later," Draco waved it off and went in to grab the reports. Langley trailed behind him.

"Also a message was sent down from Miss Granger."

"What?" he turned with reports in hand and Langley gave him an odd look.

"From the Muggle Liaison Office," Langley continued. "I'd reckon it's something about—"

"Give it here," Draco interrupted, holding out a hand.

Langley got the message from his own desk outside the office and handed it over. "Sir, I believe you scheduled a meeting for…er, now."

"I'm aware," Draco responded.

"It's nearly ten past," Langley pointed out.

"That's not your concern," Draco told him.

"Sorry Sir."

"I'm going." He tucked the message into his pocket and headed out of his office and towards his meeting.

He opened the door and went inside, everyone turning to look at him. "Sorry I'm late," he told them, somewhat sincerely. They nodded and he took the seat left open for him.

"Malfoy," Mr. Timmins, working for the Muggle-Worthy Excuses Committee, asked, "do you have the reports from the pipe incident?"

Draco slid the report file down the table to Timmins and he flipped it open. "This was genius," Timmins said. "Now we're going to be joining with the Office of Misinformation for some training sessions. A huge part of our departments weren't paying attention in their muggle studies class," he laughed.

Draco hadn't even taken muggle studies. If he had, his father would have avada-ed him. He had gotten this job purely by coincidence. Not by any sort of outstanding prerequisites and experience. He tuned out from the rest of the people around him, everyone who worked for him really.

He pulled the note from his pocket and unfolded it. He smiled and chuckled as he read it over, and then the smile slipped.

_Hi Draco,_

_Clearly, you're late. _

_Merlin, why don't we just quit our jobs? _

_Don't hurt anyone at your meeting. _

_I can't make lunch today, sorry._

_Love,_

_Hermione_

He frowned. Lunch had become a routinely thing for them. Hermione had officially changed her break time to being unofficial. For the past month now, they'd meet up with each other at every day and without question would head out to lunch. It was now customary for them.

Why couldn't she 'make lunch today'? What was so important? Where was she that she couldn't leave for twenty minutes to grab lunch? He glared at the offending note and then sighed.

It probably wasn't her fault. Besides, it was just lunch. Lunch. You don't _need_ to eat lunch with someone else. He most certainly did not _need_ Hermione. Not for lunch.

"Malfoy?" Ms. Carson said.

Draco looked up, "Yes?"

"Did you have any ideas for the swimming pool occurrence?" the way she said it, clearly it wasn't the first time she was asking.

Draco folded his hands on the table and shrugged slightly. "I handled that yesterday."

"Okay."

Draco looked around, "I guess this meeting is over then."

Everyone nodded in agreement and Draco stood up and without another glance at his employees, he left the meeting room. He headed straight out of there and out of his department, across the hall and then to the Muggle Liaison Offices.

He went straight to Hermione Granger's office. "Hello, Mister Malfoy," the secretary/assistant greeted.

Draco nodded in acknowledgement. "Anna."

"You're looking for Miss Granger?" Anna asked unnecessarily.

Draco nodded, "Can I just go in?" he gestured to her office door and Anna smiled.

"You could, but she's not in there," she said.

"Well, where is she?" Draco realized his tone was a little impatient, but he was already a little annoyed and Anna wasn't helping. The girl behind the desk pushed her glasses to the top of her head, tucking loose strands of hair back into her ponytail.

"She's gone out. She had meeting that started," she checked her watch, "ten minutes ago."

"When does it end?" Draco asked.

"Approximately an hour and a half?" Anna guessed. "But she's only in for the morning. She has the rest of the day off. Did you want to leave her a message?"

"No…" If he was disappointed he didn't show it. He looked at Anna, "Thanks," he said then walked back to his office.

He worked until lunch and then he gathered his stuff and bid Langley a curt goodbye. He went home to Yip, offering to make him whatever he'd like for lunch.

"A sandwich," Draco said. "Where're Estelle and Juliet?"

"Lunch in the nursery, Master Draco," Yip told him.

"Alright," Draco nodded. "Send my lunch there then."

"Yes, Master Draco," the elf agreed and then popped away to get the requested sandwich.

Draco jogged up the stairs and to the nursery. He opened the door to see Estelle feeding Juliet her bottle, a silver tray with a bowl of soup and a goblet sitting on the side table.

"Mister Malfoy," she smiled. "You're home early."

"Obviously," he said.

"Bad day, I suppose."

He sighed. "How about you?"

"Everything's fine," Estelle assured.

Draco walked over. "You know what, why don't you take the rest of the day off?" he suggested. "I'll handle Juliet."

"You're sure?" Estelle asked.

"Yes, I'm sure." Draco went over and took Juliet from her arms, the baby gurgling in his arms. "Either eat your lunch here and take the day for yourself or take it elsewhere and then take the day for yourself."

He grinned at her and Estelle shook her head, "I'm going to my room." She stood and picked up her tray. "And then, I'm going to visit a friend."

"Great," Draco said. "You go do that."

"I will."

* * *

"Crap!" Draco exclaimed.

Juliet cried louder.

"Shit!" he rocked her back and forth in his arms, fast and panicky.

Everything had been going so well! He had fed her her bottle, eaten his sandwich, took her walking around the gardens, even changed her diaper! And then out of nowhere she bursts out crying and…what the hell was he supposed to do?

He bounced her in his arms and she continued to wail. "Merlin," he said. "_Why_? What reason do you have to be crying?"

He turned in circles as if looking around enough would help him find something that would quiet the little girl. "Shut up," he said. "Malfoys don't cry."

Kobs came into the nursery, "Master Draco, a letter has been delivered from Miss Granger."

"Granger!" Draco put a screaming Juliet in her crib and took the letter from Kobs. "Thank you."

He opened it.

_Draco,_

_Is everything okay? Will said you left early. _

_Anna told me you came by too. Sorry, I had a meeting._

_Hermione_

"Kobs!" Draco called the elf back into the room.

"Yes, Master Draco?"

"Could you get Granger over here?"

"Miss Granger? Certainly Master Draco," Kobs nodded and snapped his fingers. Gone.

"Dear Merlin, I hope she's here soon," he muttered.

Sure enough, Kobs apparated back into the nursery with Hermione.

Hermione froze. "You called me here because your daughter is _crying_?" she asked incredulously.

He nodded. "Uncontrollably. Fix it?"

Hermione went over to the crib and lifted Juliet out. She held Juliet in her arms, supporting her head in her hand. "Turn off the lamp," she instructed.

Draco went to the bright lamp standing in the corner, lighting the entire room. He turned the switch off and the room went dim.

She swayed, turning right and left slowly as Juliet continued to cry loudly. Hermione swung the baby slowly in her arms until her cries quieted and the rocking calmed her. "Incredible," Draco whispered.

"I am, aren't I?" Hermione laughed.

Draco strode over to her, so close that his abdomen brushed her arms, Juliet between them. He held one of Juliet's little hands, his finger curled inside her little ones. Hermione smiled up at him.

"We should let her lie down before she starts up again," Hermione whispered.

"I got her," he said. He took her from Hermione's arms and lay her down in her crib. "Shh…" he whispered.

Draco checked his watch. "You got my letter?" Hermione asked. In the dimness of the room their voices lowered. Something about dark that seemed to control everyone. You lower your voice and whisper, you say things you could never say in light.

He nodded. "How was your meeting?"

"Boring as hell," she said.

He chuckled, "Why don't we just quit our jobs?"

They both laughed.

"You want to stay for dinner?" Draco asked.

Hermione grimaced, "I'm sorry. I can't."

"Okay."

"I promised to go out on a double date with Harry and Ginny tonight," she explained.

"Double date?" Draco repeated.

"Yeah," Hermione sighed. "I guess it's also a blind date on my part. Ginny set it up."

"Sounds dangerous."

"I'm bringing my wand."

He smirked, "What if he's ugly?"

"What do you mean 'what if he's ugly'?" Hermione asked.

"Oh come on," he said.

"Draco! Do you really think I'd be so shallow as to judge a man based purely on his looks?"

"Not purely," he continued to smirk.

"Hey!"

"Oh, all women judge men by their looks just as much as we judge you," Draco pointed out.

She gave him a look, "I don't believe that."

"And why?" he asked. "It's the truth. Women make judgements of men based on their looks the same way men do women. The only difference is how vocal men are about it."

"Right," she rolled her eyes. "Look, I should get going…"

"Bye, Granger."

"Bye, Draco," she sang. She looked at Juliet, "Watch her, okay?"

"Of course."

* * *

"You look great," Michael Gardner, complimented Hermione as they walked into the restaurant.

"Thank you," she said.

They were seated at a table near the back. They had chosen somewhere muggle so neither Harry, Hermione or possibly Ginny would be bombarded with wizards and witches trying to get the attention of the 'Wizarding World's Saviors'.

Michael wasn't at all ugly. And upon seeing him, Hermione could remember him from…well, one of the quidditch teams. He was tall, with dark hair and eyes and tanned skin. He looked nice in his blue button down and khaki pants—typical first date wear.

Dinner went smoothly enough. With Harry and Ginny there, there were no awkward pauses. And then right before dessert Ginny announced she had to go to the loo and Hermione had to go with her.

"What do you think?" Ginny asked excitedly as she checked her makeup in the mirror.

"Of Michael?"

"Yes of Michael!" Ginny said.

"Oh, um, he's nice," Hermione nodded.

"And?"

"And he's cute."

"Yes, and…and you don't like him," Ginny concluded.

"No! No, I like him. I just…I don't know if he's my type, is all." She fixed her hair in the mirror and adjusted her red, strapless dress, then washed her hands.

"Well what is your type?" Ginny asked.

"I don't know."

"So then how do you know Michael _isn't_ your type?"

Hermione shrugged as she applied her chap-stick. "I just do?"

"Hermione!"

"I'm not saying I won't give him a chance. I'm just saying that I can't really…_see_ myself with him."

Ginny sighed. "Well alright. Fine."

"Thank you. Now can we go back and eat dessert?" Hermione requested. "That apple pie looked _really_ good."

"Let's go."

* * *

"I had a great time," Hermione said as she and Michael stopped in front of her apartment door. "Thank you."

"I had a good time too," he returned.

"Well…goodnight then."

"Goodnight." He nodded.

She wasn't sure if it would be rude to just go inside, or if that's what he was waiting for. She put her key into the lock and looked at him. He wasn't moving closer, but he wasn't moving away from her either.

"It was nice meeting you," she said, and then she opened the door and went inside, waiting for him to turn around and head down the corridor before shutting it.

"How awkward," she muttered.

* * *

Draco read the letter over again.

'_As her grandparents they have a right to see her'_? What bullshit. They didn't want to see her four months ago. What 'right' do they have now?

And '_Juliet would be better with us_'? '_She deserves to live in a good home. Do what's best for her._'? What the hell?

"Kobs!" Draco called.

"Yes, Master Draco?"

"Scotch. Now."

* * *

He headed for the ballroom, only bumping into the wall once. He may have had one too many glasses. Or two or three too many. What did it matter anyway?

He took off his button-down shirt, tossing it aside on the ballroom floor and leaving himself in his white, v-neck t-shirt.

He half sat down, half tossed himself onto the piano bench. And he played. He hit the keys angrily, the notes coming out harsh and loud. He took his frustration out on the instrument.

"Someone's angry," Hermione said, coming into the ballroom and looking around.

He didn't hear her over the music. He continued to play.

She walked up to him and tucked the skirt of her dress under her as she sat on the piano bench beside him. He didn't acknowledge her.

It was dark; the moonlight shining through the glass balcony doors the only light. She winced as he slammed his fingers down on the keys and then she listened carefully. "That could be pretty," she whispered.

She reached across him and pulled his left hand off the keys. The dark and angry part of the music dropped out. The melody was heavy and loud. She held his left hand on his knee and then lifted his right just slightly.

She looked at him, "Lightly."

His fingers hit the keys, less harsh than before. And the melody sounded soothing. Nice. Pretty.

He stopped and looked at her. "What are you doing here?"

"Kobs," she said. "Juliet was crying. Apparently, when that happens, he's supposed to get me."

He shrugged.

"Well, she's not crying anymore. And I changed and cleaned her up." Hermione told him. "You've been drinking."

"Not a lot."

"You reek of it."

He shrugged.

"Where's Estelle?" she asked.

"Told her to take the day off," Draco said. "She'll be back tomorrow morning."

"And you'll be able to take care of Juliet all night?" she asked.

"It can't be too hard."

"Does she sleep through the night?"

"How the hell should I know?"

Hermione paused. "In the most innocent way…would you like me to stay the night?"

He smirked, "Is there an innocent way?"

"Shut up," she said. "In that case, forget I asked."

He sighed. "No, it'd be loads of help. Would you?"

"Sure," she smiled slightly. "I should go and get my pyjamas and stuff then."

He finally noticed what she was wearing. "How was your date?"

"It was nice," she nodded. "He wasn't ugly, before you ask."

He chuckled.

"I'm going to go get my stuff," she told him.

* * *

She returned with a bag of a change of clothes and toothpaste and a toothbrush. She was already in her pyjamas.

It was raining outside, hard enough to hear it from inside the manor. "Draco?" she called.

"In the library, Miss," Yip said in passing.

"Thank you," Hermione smiled. She headed to the library and went inside, amazed by tall shelves before her all over again. "Draco?"

"Over here, Granger," he yelled.

Hermione went towards his voice and around the shelves, at a table, she found him. "The house elves have a room ready for you," he told her.

"Thanks," she said. She pulled out a chair at the round wooden table and sat down across from him. "So what are you reading?"

He had a large, book in front of him, with a brown cover and old pages. He slid the book over to her and she read the cover, "Quidditch: History and Legends. I see."

He smirked.

"Would you happen to have muggle poetry in here?" she asked.

"My mother enjoyed it," Draco said. "Probably on that side." He gestured to the far left and Hermione followed his direction.

The shelves weren't as tall in this area. Taller than her still, but shorter than the others. They were filled with books. She scanned the title until she began to recognize the poet's names. Finally she found it.

"The Complete Works of Lewis Carroll," she read aloud. She pulled it off the shelf and then went back to Draco. "Come on," she beckoned.

He followed her out of the library and up the staircase to the nursery. "When I was younger," she said, "my mother would read me poems on rainy nights before bed. Now I read to myself, but seeing as I'm here doing you a favour, I think it fit for you to do me one." She walked into the nursery and checked on Juliet in her crib. She was awake, staring up at a fish mobile Estelle had given her.

"I'm not reading to you, Granger," Draco laughed.

Hermione smiled, "Yes, you are." She conjured a blanket and spread it out on the dark, wood floor. She got Juliet out of her crib and then lay down on the blanket, putting Juliet on her tummy.

Draco sat on the rocking chair and looked down at her.

"No."

"One day Juliet is going to ask you to read her a book. This is good practice," she said.

"My parents never read to me and I turned out okay," Draco told her.

She sat up and gave him a look. Fixing Juliet to sit in her lap, she handed Draco to book. "The Walrus and the Carpenter,please."

He opened the book and found the poem. Juliet had this sort of blank look on her face, looking from the rocking chair and her father to Hermione. As Draco began to read, finding the pace and meter of the poem Juliet smiled and laughed.

It was infectious, and Draco and Hermione were smiling as well. He finished the poem and looked down at Hermione, through a smile he raised an eyebrow, "Happy?"

"Very," she replied.

"It's nearing eleven o'clock," Hermione said. "She should sleep." She got up and returned Juliet to her crib, kissing her goodnight. Draco went over and did the same.

They left the nursery door open and Draco showed Hermione where she'd sleep. It was two doors down from the nursery. Draco's room was just a little ways down the corridor from the nursery in the other direction.

"Your house is huge," Hermione commented as he pointed out the nearest toilet to her.

"Too huge," he muttered.

"You think?" she asked.

"I should move," he mused.

She shrugged, "You should."

He laughed. "Goodnight, Granger."

"'Night Draco."

**A/N: I hope you liked this chapter. I worry that it was written to choppy. Yes? No? Slightly? **

**Please review, I'd love to hear what you think. **

**Thanks for reading.**

**Anyways,**

**Scarlett**


	10. Chapter 10

Hermione awoke to the sound of a sort of whimpering. It was quiet, but instinct told her it would soon get much, much louder. She rolled out of bed and left the comfort of the cool, silk sheets to wander down the hall to Juliet's room. She paused to open her eyes and then take a deep breath before she went into the nursery and went shut the door behind her, hoping not to wake Draco.

She took Juliet out of her crib and hugged her close to her chest. "What is it?" Hermione asked. "Are you hungry, sweetie?"

The little girl cried; nothing like the wailing Hermione was familiar with. It was sounded like just that, a baby crying. Hermione patted Juliet's back in an attempt to soothe her. When it didn't seem to be working, she took the lap pillow off of the chest of drawers in the room and went to the rocking chair.

She finally understood what it was for, and why Estelle left it out life that. Holding a baby in your arms, even though she may not look to weight a thing, it was tiring.

Hermione sat down on the rocking chair and held Juliet in her arms on the pillow. She rocked back and forth as the baby girl cried. It took a long while before the baby's cries were soothed, quieted as her eyes closed and she slept peacefully. "Good," Hermione whispered. "Sleep."

She put Juliet back in her crib and rubbed her own eyes tiredly. It was early, just past two in the morning, or maybe that's late. Either way, she walked back to the room she was staying in and left her own door open, crawling back into bed and getting comfortable.

She closed her eyes and relaxed.

It felt like mere minutes when she heard the crying again. So again she rolled out of bed and went to the nursery. She went to shut the door behind her again.

Needless to say she was surprised to see a half awake Draco already leaning over the crib. "Need help?" she offered.

"I've got this," Draco sort of grumbled, the sleep evident in his voice. "You go back to sleep."

"Really, I don't—" she started.

"Go."

"Okay." She nodded and went back to bed.

And then it happened again.

They stumbled into each other in the nursery doorway. They both stopped and slowed down before Hermione went in ahead of him. She got Juliet out of her crib and then turned to Draco. "I'm pretty sure she's hungry," she told him.

He ran a hand through his unruly bedhead and sighed. "I'll go fix a bottle," he said.

"I'll be here," she sighed in return.

He went off to make the bottle and she sat with Juliet.

A few minutes later he was back. He put the bottle down and moved to take Juliet from her. "I can do it," she offered. "You…you got the last one." She yawned.

"Give her here, Granger," he instructed.

She handed Juliet over and stood from the rocking chair to let him sit. "Why doesn't one of us just take her into our room?" she suggested.

"What's the point?" he asked. "We'd have to get out of bed anyway."

"Then put her _in_ your bed," Hermione said.

He looked up at her as he fed Juliet the bottle, Juliet immediately quieted. He shook his head, like it was too heavy to lift. "That's dangerous," Draco said.

"How?" she asked.

"I'd roll over her or something." Draco said, the worry evident in his voice but not in his expression. Though it was hard to tell as he continued to look down at Juliet.

"You won't roll over her," Hermione argued tiredly.

"I could."

"You won't."

"Seriously. No," he told her. "Could you get the cloth on the—"

Hermione grabbed the cloth from the side table and wiped the milk from Juliet's chin. "Fine. But it's…" she checked the clock, "five fifty-seven," she commented.

"Look," he met her eyes this time, "you don't have to get up then, okay? I'll handle this. Go back to sleep."

"I don't mind helping," she insisted. "I just don't see the sense in having to get up and stumble down the hall every time she cries—which seems to be an awful lot."

"Then go back to sleep. It's not your problem," Draco grumbled.

Hermione wasn't sure if it was just his groggy voice or if he was really getting annoyed. She liked to believe the former. She watched as Juliet continued to suck on the bottle and Draco tried to stifle a yawn.

There was silence for a few minutes before Juliet burbled and turned away from the bottle. Hermione wiped the little girl's mouth off again and then put the cloth back on the side table.

She looked at him tiredly. Pale and shadowed in the dark. His black t-shirt was rumpled, his hair was sticking up in odd directions. And then she looked at the little girl in his arms.

"What if she stays with me?" she suggested.

There was a pause and for a second she wanted to take it back. Maybe it was crossing some sort of line with him.

"If you're comfortable with it Granger, by all means," he told her.

"I won't roll over her," Hermione sighed. "I swear. Here." She picked Juliet up and adjusted her in her arms. "Now _you _go back to sleep."

He nodded, "Thanks, Granger."

"No problem."

They slept like babies.

* * *

Hermione sat up and rubbed her eyes a bit. She yawned and rolled her shoulders back. She had to admit, the bed was extremely comfortable. She didn't want to get up.

Juliet lay surrounded by a few pillows, a pink blanket covering her legs. Hermione swung her legs over the side of the bed, pushing the classy, gray bedding off of her. She fixed her lilac t-shirt and then walked around the bed to pick up Juliet.

She went into the nursery and changed the baby girl's diaper and one-piece. She brushed Juliet's fine, blonde hair and then went down the hall to Draco's room. She knocked twice and then waited.

"Draco?"

No answer.

"Draco?" she called.

She turned the knob slowly, just to give him a chance of yelling something if he was indecent. "Draco?" She held Juliet on her hip as she pushed open the door. "Oh my word," Hermione breathed.

His room was huge. There was a gray, stone fireplace on one wall, a large and beautifully designed rug in front of it. There was a dark green arm chair on the rug and a matching loveseat, a green so dark some could mistake it for black, surrounding a coffee table. He had a huge, king-sized bed and dark mahogany armoire, a matching trunk at the foot of his bed. There was a door leading to the left, which Hermione assumed led to a bathroom.

"We should go wake up Daddy," Hermione said to Juliet, "shouldn't we?"

Juliet giggled and Hermione stepped into the room and walked over to the side of his bed. He lay on the left side, sort of splayed out and turned towards the middle of the huge bed. The silver/white comforter and sheet set were neatly covering from his waist down and as Hermione walked closer she could see how peaceful he looked sleeping.

He looked angelic. And it almost pointed out the resemblance between Draco and Juliet even more. Their pale, translucent skin, platinum blonde hair and curling eyelashes were identical. She smiled at him.

"You want to wake him up, Juliet?" Hermione asked. "Come on."

She sat Juliet on the side of Draco's bed and raised Juliet's right hand to tap Draco's cheek. "Draco," she cajoled.

No movement.

She sat down on the edge on his bed and placed the little girl on her lap. She shook Draco's shoulder gently. "Draco, get up. Draco."

He stirred and turned, opening his eyes and sitting up right away. The sudden movement had Juliet falling back against Hermione's side and she immediately tightened her arm around the baby's middle.

"Good morning, Draco," Hermione smiled.

"Granger." His normally smooth voice was rough and groggy with sleep. He cleared his throat. "What time is it?"

"Almost eight o'clock," Hermione told him. Her stomach rumbled, and she blushed. Juliet laughed, smiling widely.

"Hungry, Granger?" Draco smirked.

"Yes, actually," Hermione said. "Are we going to have breakfast?"

"Call Yip," he said. "She'll get breakfast ready and—"

Hermione cut him off with a sharp look.

"The house elves _like_ working here, Granger." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair in exasperation. "Trust me, I've told them before they are free to leave if they wish."

"I'm sure," she replied sarcastically.

"You want to ask them?" he challenged.

"Why? So they can spit out some bull answer you've fed them?"

"Granger. I'm not joking. They are here by their own free will."

"It's not free will if they aren't free," Hermione countered.

"They _like _working."

"The ones who are still here. The ones who didn't like working left four years ago. Free elves," Draco said.

Her expression changed. "Wait. Really?"

"Yes, really."

"Why?"

He scooped up Juliet and got out of bed, ruffling his own unruly hair. He took a deep breath and smiled at Juliet. "Because," he started, "when I was in school there was this bushy-haired, bookworm girl in my year who went around determinedly campaigning to free all the house elves. Oh wait— that was you."

"My hair wasn't bushy in fourth year," she grumbled.

"She started this club called 'Spew'."

"S-P-E-W," she corrected.

"And at some point I realized she had a point."

"Some point?" she repeated.

"So when my father got locked up and my mother went away, I let the house elves choose their own status."

"Really."

"Ergo, there are five _free_ house elves from Malfoy Manor who are living _free _and have been given money to get along more than well for a long while. And Yip, Kobs and Mitzy are the three elves who _wanted_ to stay. By their _free_ will," Draco stressed.

"You're kidding." Her mouth dropped open.

He smiled, "I'm not." He passed Juliet to Hermione and nodded towards the door. "Estelle should be back in the adjoined room to the nursery now. Get her to watch Juliet while you get ready, then we can all have breakfast together."

Hermione nodded, "Alright. See you downstairs then?"

Draco nodded and went into his bathroom, confirming Hermione's suspicions about the door to the left.

She carried Juliet down the hall and to the door next to the nursery. She knocked twice and heard a proper voice from within call out, "Come in."

Hermione opened the door and went inside to see Estelle on a velvet, gray-blue, wingback armchair. Her glasses were perched on her nose—making Hermione think back to her days at Hogwarts with Professor McGonagall—she held a small, hard cover book in her hand and small smile gracing her features.

"Good morning," Hermione spoke cheerfully and Estelle looked up.

"Miss Granger." Her smile spread as she marked her page and shut her book.

"Hermione," the younger woman corrected. "How are you?"

"Wonderful, Dear," Estelle took off and folded her glasses, stood up and straightened her long, indigo skirt that fell straight. "And you?"

"Good," Hermione nodded.

"Hermione, I see you stayed the night," Estelle said.

Hermione's eyes widened. "No! No, it's not like that!"

"No, no, I didn't mean it like that," Estelle shook her head. "You helped to take care of Juliet, didn't you? You look rather tired."

"Oh," Hermione blushed at the assumption she had made. "Yes, well, we had no idea she was so fussy sometimes."

Estelle smiled warmly, "She likes music. That's what I use to get her to sleep."

Hermione hadn't even considered that. But humming and singing had seemed to work previously. "We hadn't even thought of that," she said. "I'll remember that."

"Well here," Estelle held out her arms. "I'll take Juliet and you go ahead and get cleaned up and ready."

Hermione sighed gratefully. "Thank you," she told her sincerely. She handed Juliet over to Estelle and then went back to Draco's room quickly.

"Hey," she called. "Do you mind if I take a shower?"

"Go ahead, Granger. No need to ask. Towels are in the left cupboard." he yelled back.

"Thanks."

She went and got her toiletries and then headed into the nearest washroom. After a nice hot shower she found a fluffy green towel and wrapped it around herself then padded out of the washroom. Her hair was wet and stuck to her neck in limp curls.

She scurried down the hall and to the room she was staying in. She changed into her pink blouse and cream pencil skirt. Then she went downstairs and down the corridor to find out just where exactly they ate breakfast in the huge house.

Yip directed her to the smaller dining room with a relatively long, oval table. There she found Estelle, Juliet and Draco waiting for her. Plates of waffles and fruit were set in front of them. Hermione's face split into a wide grin as her stomach growled a bit.

Draco laughed, "Sit down, Granger."

She took the empty seat to the left of Estelle and across from Draco, Juliet at the bend of the table between Estelle and Draco. As soon as Hermione sat down they all dug in. Belgian waffles with blueberries and strawberries, powdered sugar and raspberries. It was beyond delicious, tasting closer to dessert than breakfast.

After everyone was fed, including Juliet, Draco stood. "We should get to work," he said, checking his watch.

Hermione caught a glimpse of the time on his wrist as she licked a bit of icing sugar off her finger. "Oh," she said in surprise. She was late; much later than she had ever shown up to work unplanned. She nodded, "We should go."

Draco kissed Juliet goodbye and Hermione did the same. Hermione hugged Estelle goodbye as well and Draco bid her goodbye.

Hermione pulled out her wand and Draco shook his head. "We'll take the floo," he said.

"Right."

Draco led her to the fireplace handed her a bit of floo powder. "You go first," she said.

"No, go ahead."

"Really, you go first. I don't like flooing."

"Why?" he asked.

"It's strange to walk into flames. Heatless or not."

He chuckled at her.

"Don't laugh. Now you go first."

"You sure?"

"Definitely."

He gave her an odd look. "Okay."

He threw the floo powder in, announced his destination and then walked into the emerald flames. Hermione followed soon after him. She shut her eyes tight and practically jumped into the flames.

"Where have you been?" Anna asked as Hermione came into the office.

"Nowhere," Hermione replied.

"You're late," Anna pointed out.

Hermione nodded, "I know."

"What kept you?"

"Nothing."

"Who were you with?"

"No one."

"Well why are you late then?"

"No reason," Hermione laughed.

"You know, you look like you've barely slept a wink, yet you're smiling like you're giddy."

"I know."

**A/N: And that's chapter ten everyone! Please review. Come on, it's chapter TEN! I'd really, really appreciate the reviews.**

**Or else pretty soon I'll have to go all reverse psychology on all of you. **

**So be kind and review!**

**Anyways,**

**Scarlett**


	11. Chapter 11

"Hello, Hermione. Are you aware that there is a wrackspurt just outside your office?"

Hermione looked up in surprise at the young woman standing in her office doorway. She smiled.

"Luna! Goodness, I haven't seen you in so long!" she exclaimed.

"They told me you worked around here," Luna said, her voice as happy and wistful as Hermione remembered. "I thought I'd come by. Ginny and I are meeting for lunch and I thought I'd invite you along."

"Oh," Hermione looked at the time. "Well, if you and Ginny just wanted to have lunch together and catch up… I wouldn't want to intrude."

"You wouldn't be intruding Hermione," Luna smiled. "I'm inviting you, aren't I?"

"Well, yes. But…" Hermione looked past Luna and then held back a sigh, "well okay. I'd love to."

"Wonderful," Luna said. "Can you leave now?"

"Sure," Hermione nodded. "I just need to leave a note with my secretary…"

"Alright."

Hermione grabbed a scrap of parchment, and looked for a quill. Unable to find one quickly she instead grabbed a rollerball pen from her desk and wrote quickly. She walked out of her office and Luna followed behind her. She put the note, folded in half, on Anna's desk and Anna gave her a knowing smile.

"Just give him that, please," Hermione requested. Anna nodded. "Thank you. Ready to leave, Luna?"

"Yes," Luna nodded. She smiled at Anna, "Good afternoon."

Anna smiled back and Hermione headed down the corridor.

* * *

"Hey, Luna, Hermione," Ginny greeted.

"Afternoon, Ginny," Hermione hugged her and then they sat down.

"Hello, Ginny," Luna replied. She took a seat at the small, round table as well and then opened a menu.

Ginny sipped the water set before them on the table and smiled at the two girls. "So, have you both been?"

They ordered and talked, shared dessert and laughed. Luna was preparing for her upcoming wedding to Rolf Scamander. She was excited as ever and had asked Hermione and Ginny both to be bridesmaids. They had said yes of course, and Luna was talking to them about bridesmaid's dresses.

"You may wear whatever you like," Luna told them, "so long as it's not white. I was thinking yellow maybe."

Ginny made a face to Hermione. "Yellow isn't my colour," she mouthed.

"This isn't about you," Hermione mouthed back.

"Yellow it is," Ginny agreed. "Do you want to choose the dresses or should we?"

"You can," Luna said.

Hermione nodded, "Sounds good. It's in two weeks; we should probably look for dresses soon. Just in case they need to be ordered or something."

"Well what are you doing after work?" Ginny asked. "We could go together."

"Nothing. Okay." Hermione shrugged.

"Great. Luna did you want to come too?" she offered.

Luna shook her head, her long blonde hair swaying. "That's okay. You two go ahead."

They paid the bill and then left the restaurant. Hermione went back to work and noticed that the note was gone off of Anna's desk. "He must have stopped by," Hermione muttered.

* * *

As Hermione was packing up her things to leave work, Draco walked into her office. "Hey, Granger," he nodded at her and then hopped onto her desk, swinging his legs like a little kid.

"Hi, Draco."

He watched her fit a notepad neatly into her bag and then picked up a pencil on her desk and twirled it between his fingers. He looked at it as if it were foreign.

"Sorry I didn't meet you for lunch," she apologized. "Luna asked me to have lunch with her and Ginny."

He nodded. "Where are you off to?" he asked.

"Nowhere really," she said.

"Do you want to—"

"Ready to shop?" Ginny cut him off as she bounced into Hermione's office. Her face went blank as she saw Draco on her desk. "Malfoy. What are you doing here?"

His voice took on a slightly hostile tone. "Came to see Granger. You?"

"I came to see Hermione," she said. She walked over to her friend and gave her a look to ask, _what the hell is he doing here_?

"Draco, you remember Ginny," Hermione said.

"Draco?" Ginny repeated.

"Weaslet—" Hermione hit his arm hard. "ley," he corrected quickly.

"Hermione," Ginny ignored him, "are we going shopping or not?"

"We are," Hermione assured. "Draco, um, did you want to come along?"

Draco gave her a weird look, like she was absurd for suggesting it. At Ginny's look of disgust though he changed his mind and smirked. "Sure."

Hermione almost grimaced but held her tongue. "We should get going then," Ginny declared. She grabbed Hermione's arm and pulled her out of her office.

Once they had made it outside to the sunshine Ginny left Draco behind them and looked at Hermione. "Since when do you call him Draco and does he visit you regularly?"

"I call him Draco because surnames sound too formal for a friend."

"A friend?" Ginny asked incredulously. "I guess it's one-sided then."

"What?"

"He calls you Granger, doesn't he?"

"It would be weird if he didn't," Hermione commented dismissively.

"Is he why you didn't owl Michael back?" Ginny demanded.

Hermione sighed. "For your information I _did_ owl Michael back. I told him I was sorry, I was busy. And no, Draco is not the reason."

"How long have you two been friends?"

"A while," she replied vaguely.

Ginny pulled her down the street. "Does Harry know? Merlin, does Ron know?"

"I don't think I've mentioned it, no."

"Hermione, you do remember how Malfoy treated us all, right?" Ginny asked. "Or have you forgotten?"

"I remember," Draco and Hermione said at the same time. She looked back at him and he nodded.

"Yeah, believe it or not, I can hear you from back her. And yes, Weasley, I remember what I did to all of you."

"Good," Ginny said. "I hope you never forget it." She turned to Hermione, just seconds late to see her flinch at her words, "Where do you want to go?"

"A block that way," Hermione told her, emotionlessly, pointing left.

Ginny nodded and wordlessly followed Hermione down the street and then around the block until they came to a dress boutique.

Draco realized what he had gotten himself in to. The place was filled with racks of dresses, forming close rows with very narrow walkways between. They were brightly coloured. All lengths, all colours, all styles.

Hermione had lost Ginny in the store before she even finished crossing the threshold. She spotted a pink, patterned bench in the back, just in front of the openings to what she presumed to be the fitting rooms. She pointed that way, her voice quiet, "You can sit over there if you like. Hopefully this won't take too long."

Draco nodded and waded his way through the dresses to the back. Hermione caught a glimpse of Ginny's fiery red hair and followed into the aisle. Ginny was pulling out just about any yellow dress she saw to take a look at.

She pulled two dresses off the rack and put them in Hermione's arms. "You should try those on," she instructed, tonelessly.

Hermione sighed and held the dresses. "Look, Ginny, I didn't mention it," Hermione said. "But I don't see what right you have to be upset here. He's my friend. You don't have like him because you don't have to get to know him."

"What is there to get to know?" she asked. "He's Malfoy, I know enough. We _all_ know enough. Or at least, I thought we all did."

"Ginny," Hermione admonished.

"What Hermione? You think he's changed?" she questioned. "No one ever _really_ changes."

"Well maybe what I'm seeing was always there," Hermione countered.

Ginny took a deep breath as she pulled a green dress from the rack and held it up for better view. Hermione took the dress by the hanger from her hands and placed it back on the rack. "Yellow," she reminded.

Ginny sighed and continued down the aisle. "Who you're friends with is your business Hermione, you're right. But he hurt you enough as kids; we don't need to see it all again as adults."

Hermione laughed humourlessly. "What? You think he's going to enlarge my teeth and compare me to woodland creatures again?"

Ginny shrugged and her eyes flicked over to Draco, leaning back on the bench and looking around without interest. She looked back at Hermione. "I don't know."

They reached the end of the aisle and a saleswoman with honey blonde hair pulled up to the top of her head in a ponytail and bright red lipstick walked up to them. "Can I help you with anything?" she asked, polite as ever as she straightened her pale pink blazer and matching pencil skirt.

"No, we're okay thanks," Hermione said.

Ginny talked over her, "Actually we're looking for bridesmaid dresses. Preferably yellow."

"Well if you're open to our selection of muggle wear as well we have tons over there," she pointed across the store. "Why don't you take what you have and go to the fitting rooms, I'll bring anything else I find to you."

Hermione smiled, "Thank you."

On their way through the dresses to the back Ginny turned to Hermione. "Are you dating him?" she asked.

"Who?"

Ginny gave her a look. "Malfoy."

Hermione shook her head, "No. We're just friends."

"Like how George and Angelina are 'just' friends?" she pressed.

"No. Like how Ron and I are just friends."

"You dated my brother," Ginny pointed out.

Hermione huffed, "Then like how Harry and I are friends!"

"You swear?"

"I promise."

"Could you keep that promise forever?" Ginny questioned.

Hermione's mouth dropped open. "I—"

"I give it two months," Ginny interrupted.

"Ginny, honestly, we're only friends," Hermione told her, a hint of annoyance slipping into her tone.

"Then you wouldn't mind if it happened to come up at Sunday's brunch," Ginny stated.

"Ginny."

"What? You're only friends," she repeated sardonically.

"We are," Hermione insisted. "But you know as well as I do how Ron and Harry will react. I want to tell them myself."

"But you just haven't _happened_ to mention it to them yet, right?" Ginny smiled 'sweetly'. "You have to plan to tell them? I mean—mention it to them?"

"Don't be that way," Hermione sniped.

"Hermione, if you're just friends and it's no big deal, then why hadn't you told any of us?"

She sighed. "Oh come on Ginny. If you were me, you wouldn't have brought it up either."

Ginny couldn't fight her on that. Even she had to admit, if it was her she would keep it to herself. At least for a while. Or maybe not, but she could see why Hermione didn't say anything.

Hermione might have had the most reason to despise Draco out of all of them. The taunting and teasing she suffered through in school. The belief of her inferiority and their superiority pressed upon her. If she had told them she'd sound ludicrous. Their protective instincts over her would kick in and neither Draco nor Hermione would stand a chance against their mind set.

"Don't trust too soon," Ginny advised quietly. "None of us will like hearing about this or seeing your kindness wasted on him."

"What makes you think it's wasted?" Hermione asked softly as they neared closer to Draco.

"But none of us will tolerate him hurting you." She laughed, "There will be no mercy."

Hermione gave her a sad sort of smile. "I know."

They reached the fitting area. Cream stalls lined the two walls of the smaller area and clean and spotless mirrors covered the curved wall straight ahead. Hermione carried the two dresses Ginny had handed her into a stall and hung it on the hook in there. Ginny went into the stall across from her and hung her few dresses in there.

Hermione tried on her first dress. She looked down at herself. It didn't fit right. It hung to low in the back and the ruching on the top made her feel encased and the colour was more gold than yellow anyway. She sighed.

"Let me see it," Ginny called.

Hermione opened the door and stuck her head out, "No. It…it doesn't look good. I'm going to try on the next one."

"Hermione."

Ginny stepped out in a pale yellow, strapless dress. The top crossed over her chest classily and then a formal skirt transitioned from a cream band at her waist.

"Oh my word," Hermione said. "Ginny that's stunning. How do you always manage to find _it_ on the first try?"

Ginny beamed, "What can I say? I've got it. Even my worst colours look _good._" She placed her hands on her hips and turned from side to side.

Draco leaned to see around the wall. "You don't look half bad there Weasley."

"Incredible," Ginny smirked. "I think Malfoy just paid me a compliment."

He smirked back, "Almost."

"Girls!" the saleswoman came rushing into the fitting area, hidden behind a piled of hangers, satin and tulle. "I've found dresses!"

Ginny took the dresses from the woman and immediately began to rule almost half of them out. By the end she was down to four. "Well I've found mine," Ginny announced to the woman, gesturing at herself. "Hermione you take these."

Hermione nodded begrudgingly and took the dresses into her fitting room.

Too big.

Too tight.

Too much cleavage.

Too short.

Hermione stormed out of the stall. "Ginny, this is ridiculous!" she cried. She made an angry, sweeping gesture down at herself and the amount of skin exposed. "I _cannot_ wear this to Luna's wedding!"

Draco's jaw dropped open as he leaned around the wall to see just what she was shouting about. "Merlin," he breathed.

"Draco!" she chastised.

"What?" he asked.

"Stop looking at me like that!"

"It's not my fault I'm a bloke!" he exclaimed.

"My eyes are _here_," she informed him testily. She covered her chest with her arms and he chuckled and shook his head.

His gaze dropped to her legs, "There is _much_ more to cover Granger. Although I think I'd prefer you didn't."

"Draco, you're…ogling," she snapped. She backed around the wall to be out of sight.

"And I like what I see," he smirked.

"Malfoy!" Ginny threw her ballet flat at him. He caught it with seeker reflexes and dropped it on the ground. "You know, Malfoy is…sort of right. You look hot Hermione."

"Shut up!" she yelled from the stall. "That was the last dress! I'll just…colour-change an old dress then."

"No!" Ginny argued. "There's _got_ to be something else."

"This is the last one," the saleswoman came back with another dress.

Hermione sighed, "Last. One."

She took it into the stall and put it on, reaching behind herself to tug the zipper up. She stepped out and looked in the mirror.

It was strapless, a slightly brighter yellow taffeta than Ginny's but light all the same. The top was pleated followed by a thick band of fabric from under her bust, accentuating her small waist. The skirt flowed out neatly from just above her hips to tea length.

"That's really pretty," Ginny said.

The saleswoman nodded, "It's very nice." Of course, she probably had to say that seeing as she was trying to sell the dress, but Hermione felt she meant it anyway.

Hermione stepped out so Draco could see her. "How do I look?"

He smirked. "Good Granger. Like sunshine."

"Thank you," she nodded, satisfied. "Now can we pay for these and be done?" she asked Ginny.

"Definitely," Ginny agreed.

"Thank. Merlin."

* * *

**A/N: Okay, well I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Sorry if you found it too short. I know I'll probably be crazy busy the next few days though so I thought I'd post this now.**

**Please let me know if you think this story is moving fast. I know I hate it when I read stories like that so before I take annoying things too far, _please_ let me know. And on a note of annoying things I want to hear what your fanfiction pet peeves are. Just for fun if you're reviewing, feel free to add that in there.**

**Anyways,**

**Scarlett**


	12. Chapter 12

Ginny made sure Draco had disapparated to his manor before she would leave Hermione. She was being ridiculous; they had already established the fact that Hermione and Draco had been friends for a while but Ginny felt it necessary anyway. Draco had left and Ginny sighed.

"See you Sunday," Hermione said.

Ginny nodded, "Yep…"

"What, Ginny?" she asked. She looked around the busy streets, the crowds of people diminishing as they went home for the evening. The sun was still pretty bright in the sky and Hermione squinted at it as she awaited Ginny's answer.

The redhead talked quickly, not wanting to anger Hermione again. "I can't keep this in for very long. If you don't tell Harry soon…"

"I will," Hermione decided. "Ron too. This…this Sunday."

"Good," Ginny said. She hugged Hermione goodbye and then disapparated to her own home. Hermione disapparated as well and entered her own flat, exhausted.

She fell back onto her sofa and let her head tip back. She needed to get out of her work clothes. She needed a nice, warm bath and soft, cotton pyjamas.

She went into the washroom and filled the tub with hot water and bubble bath, and then walked into her room to undress. Grabbing an old, paperback, romance novel she went back into the washroom and put the toilet lid down. She sat on the closed lid and waited for her bath to fill, opening her book and feeling the hot steam fill the room, making it humid. The aroma of vanilla wafted through the air from the steam and bubble bath.

Hermione turned the faucet off and slipped into the tub, propping her elbows on the sides of the tub to keep her book away from the water. She was careful with her books, but there were a choice few she didn't mind taking to her baths even though the pages were beginning to curl from the heat and steam.

"Granger?"

Hermione closed her eyes and forgot about the book, putting it off to the side and sinking down into the water.

"Granger?"

Through the soft pops of the foamy bubbles, the quiet static like sounds, she heard him in the distance.

"Granger!" he called.

She sat up. "Oh!" She jumped out of the bath and wrapped a towel around herself messily. She grabbed her wand and unlocked the door from the bathroom doorway, then jumped back into the tub. "Come in!" she yelled back.

She quickly covered herself with bubbles as she heard Draco enter the flat.

He came through the door, closing it behind him and looking around. Empty living room, empty kitchen. "Granger?"

"In the bathroom," she hollered. "I'm in the middle of my bath."

She could hear him approaching. "What is it with girls and baths?" he asked. He knocked. "Is it alright if I come in? I can shield my eyes if necessary."

"Not—not necessary," she said as he stepped inside. "What are you doing here?" She looked up. "You brought Juliet."

He nodded, "I did. She's barely been outside the manor. I told Estelle I was bringing her here." He patted the little girl's tummy and she laughed.

Hermione laughed as well. "Alright, well could you two go wait in the living room then? I'll only be a few moments."

"Sure, Granger."

He took Juliet from the room with him and they settled on the sofa. He sat her up and surrounded her with a few cream throw pillows. He ran a hand over the top of her head and smile down at her as she hummed.

He heard the snapping of shampoo bottles from the bathroom and he turned in that direction. He picked up the remote control and began to push buttons, imitating what he had seen Hermione to do get the box to light up. He pressed the red button, figuring it was his best bet and was almost excited as he watched the screen come to life.

A little while later the sound of water draining was heard and Hermione exited her bathroom wrapped in a fluffy white towel. Her hair was dripping wet and sticking to her back as she turned. "Give me two seconds," she said. She scurried into her bedroom and dried her hair magically then changed into plaid, black and white pyjama pants and a black, v-neck t-shirt.

She flipped her hair over to tie it up and off of her neck. Two short curls managed to escape at the front to frame her face. She tucked one behind her ear. "So," she said as she sat down beside Draco and tucked a leg under her, "what are you doing here?"

He sort of just stared ahead blankly, shaking his head.

He looked at her, "Why didn't you tell them?" he asked.

She gave a half-shrug. "Same reason you haven't mentioned me to Blaise."

"How do you know I haven't told Blaise?" he inquired.

She gave him a look.

"I haven't," he admitted casually, "but how would you know?"

"An inkling," she replied. She paused. "Listen, I'm sorry about what Ginny said."

"Shut up, Granger," he said seriously. "What do you have to apologize for?"

"She was getting a little out of hand," Hermione told him. "I've forgiven you for all of that."

"I never asked for your forgiveness."

She sort of glared at him. "Somewhere in the time we've been spending together, you did. Whether you meant to or not. I'm giving it to anyway."

"Weasley has a point," Draco said. "I haven't forgotten what I did to you. You haven't forgotten. And you know what Granger? You never _will_ forget it. And neither can I. I'm sorry."

Hermione picked Juliet up and held her. There was something so comforting about her, how innocent she was. She had yet to experience truth. Hermione fixed Juliet in her arms and then turned to Draco. "It's okay. We can forget about it."

He scoffed and shook his head. "Nobody ever means that, regardless of whether they want to or not."

"Draco." Her voice was low and she looked at him carefully. She looked down at her lap and Juliet, then sighed. "You bullied me. You were mean, and relentless, and prejudiced, insufferable, spoiled, and cocky. You were awful to me. And my friends." She was little surprised with herself. But she figured if that's what he wanted then fine. That was what he was going to get. He could remember all he wanted. You were cruel, and wrong, and you thought you were so superior. And there were times we sunk to your low, scum level. A lot of the time, we did consider ourselves better than you. I couldn't stand you though. That hit in third year? I enjoyed it; just as you enjoyed enlarging my teeth the following year." She took a deep breath as he kept a straight, stoic face.

"They're a normal size now," he muttered to himself. 'When you smile—"

Hermione continued, "Draco, your tormenting was brutal. But I'm stronger because of it; I wouldn't be the same if it hadn't happened. And you, Draco, you're a different sort of person now. I refuse to harbour those negative feelings for you. So maybe I won't forget, but I most certainly do forgive."

No response.

She held Juliet securely in one arm as she raised the other and hit Draco upside his head. Hard enough that he moved, not so hard it hurt. "You are an idiot," she said. "You know that?"

He looked at her, "I'm somewhat aware, thanks."

Hermione, in a thoughtless, daring action grabbed his left arm and turned it palm up. He flinched and tried to pull it back, giving her a look. She looked him in the eye and held his forearm tightly. He was stronger than her, but in that one look he knew there was no point. His arm tensed but he held still as she drew her thumb across the pale skin of his forearm, just touching the scar-like mark there.

The remains of what was a dark mark. He couldn't look at her.

"See?" she asked, her voice light despite how terrible he was feeling. "That's the past. And…"

She let go of him, his arm dropping to his leg and then she picked Juliet up and placed her in his arms. "She's your future."

The smile the little girl gave him was catching; he couldn't help but smile back.

* * *

Hermione woke up early Sunday morning as she was accustomed to. She got out the eggs, bread, cinnamon, vanilla and some icing sugar. And then she prepared her pan and started on the French toast.

It didn't take her long; it was practically routinely for her now. Once finished she put the French toast in a container and put a warming spell on it.

She was going to tell them today, just as she had promised Ginny. She was going to bring it up. And then she realized she had no plan.

If she brought it up like it didn't matter, it would cause a huge reaction from them. And if she brought it up like it did matter, they'd say something was _really_ going on. But how was she supposed to bring it up? They were all going to be upset with her anyway.

There was no way. In what way was she supposed to _casually_ say 'By the way, I've been friends with Draco Malfoy for a while'? It would be her against all of them. The Potters and the Weasleys against a Granger.

Unless it wasn't just a Granger.

* * *

"Granger?" he asked in surprise. Then concern slipped into his voice, "Is everything okay?"

She nodded and smiled a bit as she walked over to him. She checked her watch. "What are doing right now?" she asked.

"I was about to eat breakfast. Why?"

She held the container of French toast in her hands as she stood before him in the sitting room of Malfoy Manor. She hesitated, "Do you want to come with me somewhere?"

"Where?"

"For brunch."

"Where?" he repeated.

"The Burrow," she mumbled.

"You mean the Weasleys' place?" he said incredulously. "You're kidding." He looked at her expression. "Granger," he said flatly. It was only three days ago he had to deal with the girl Weasley, he wasn't about to go up against the whole lot of them.

"Oh come on Draco," she said. "Please?"

"No."

"Please?" she looked up at from under her lashes and he fought to keep his resolve.

"No."

"Draco," she begged.

"Granger, no," he said firmly. "Why the hell would I put myself in jeopardy like that?"

She took a deep breath. "It would make you a really good friend," she told him. "And it's quite possible you owe me one."

"Fine. And when you have a kid I'll babysit a couple times," he agreed. "But until then, the answer is no."

"It's just brunch!" Hermione exclaimed. "I could really use the help here."

"You made French toast?" he asked. She nodded. "You can't elbow me for any comments I make."

"You'll come with me?" He nodded. The tone in her voice changed, "You'll be civil. Now go get Juliet, she's coming too."

He raised an eyebrow.

She smiled, "Babies soften everyone up. Now come on, we're already late."

* * *

"Good morning," Hermione called as she stepped into the Burrow. She stepped into the kitchen and ran into George.

George stumbled back and Hermione laughed. "Sorry George. Happy Sunday!"

George chuckled. "Happy Sunday Hermione," he returned. "You brought French toast, right?"

"Of course," she offered him the plate and he took it off her hands then froze.

"Granger, this bag is huge. What the hell did you put in here?" Draco struggled through the doorway with the large diaper bag Hermione had packed. Juliet sat on his hip in one arm as he shouldered his way through.

George glared. "What's he doing here?"

"I thought I'd bring him along," Hermione said. "I hope you all won't mind."

"We bloody do mind!" George exclaimed.

Hermione sighed and gave him a look. "Where are the others?"

"In the back," George said, still giving Draco a dirty look. "They're about to play a round of quidditch."

She nodded.

Draco turned and George caught sight of Juliet. He smiled at the little girl. "Why, hello there," he cooed. "Who are you?"

Hermione grinned. "This is Juliet," she introduced. She took Juliet from Draco and motioned for him to put the diaper bag off to the side. He did so.

George tickled the baby's tummy and she gurgled. "Wait. This is your child?" he asked Draco.

Draco bit back a sarcastic comment and nodded with a tugging smirk.

"I don't see the resemblance," George said. "She's adorable."

Hermione swatted George with a smile and then told him to take the French toast to the kitchen. George went into the kitchen and Hermione followed behind him, Draco trailing behind her.

Molly was at the stove, making scrambled eggs as always. Hermione walked over to stand next to her until Molly turned to look at her.

"Molly, I was just—"

"Who is _this_," Mrs. Weasley squealed and leaned towards Juliet. Juliet stayed quiet as Mrs. Weasley smiled at the little one.

"This is Juliet," Hermione said. "Malfoy," she added. Draco, who had taken his sweet time entering the kitchen, finally made an appearance at Hermione's side.

"Malfoy," Molly repeated. "Hello."

Draco cleared his throat and tried to sound a little cheerful. "Hello, Mrs. Wealsey."

"This is your little girl?" she asked.

Draco nodded.

Molly gave Hermione a look to ask what Draco was doing there exactly. Hermione adjusted Juliet in her arms and looked at Mrs. Weasley. "I invited Draco to join us this morning," she explained. "I hope that's alright with you."

Mrs. Weasley took a deep breath. "That's fine… Draco, why don't you go out back with the others?" she suggested. "Hermione, could you finish these eggs? I'm going to fix the bacon."

Draco took Juliet from Hermione, figuring if she could affect George so much she'd be a help with the other Weasleys as well. He looked at Hermione, a hint of nervousness displayed on his features. She smiled at him and nodded towards the back.

It was a fake smile. She knew he'd practically die out there.

It wasn't long before Mrs. Weasly asked, as Hermione pushed the eggs from the frying pan to a plate.

"Dear, is there something between you and Draco?"

"A friendship," Hermione replied simply. "I've…I've actually been friends with him for a while. I thought it was about time he, well, _re_-met us all."

"You think that's a good idea?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

Hermione resisted rolling her eyes. She wasn't sure what she thought of the idea, but she knew there wasn't any chance of it not happening now. Draco was in the back with everyone else, they were probably chewing him out as she got out the serving utensils. "It's an idea," Hermione said wistfully.

"Well then," Molly said. "You'll be in charge of keeping everyone in line then. No fighting."

"No fighting," Hermione recited.

* * *

"Ron!" Charlie roared.

The quaffle hit Ron's back and he lurched forward on his broom.

"What the hell are you looking at?" Bill yelled.

Ron stared down at the ground. "Who's that?" he asked.

Ginny followed his gaze and her eyes widened. "Crap," she drew out.

"Is that…_Malfoy_?" Harry gasped. "What—"

Ginny opened her mouth to say something, then stopped.

"Who is that?" Ron shouted down to Fleur, who sat on the small bench they had set up on the ground with James on her lap and a three year old Vicotire sitting quietly beside her.

Fleur looked at the platinum blonde man passing across yard and squinted. She looked back up at everyone flying above, "Yes! It's him!" she said in her accent.

The entire game had stopped.

"That's Malfoy!" Harry exclaimed.

"That is Malfoy," George agreed.

"Draco Malfoy?" Bill and Charlie asked at once.

Ron nodded in confirmation.

"Is he holding a baby?" Angelina asked, flying over to hover next to Ginny. "Do you know anything about this?"

"A little too much I worry," Ginny whispered.

Angelina looked at her. "What's he doing here?"

Ginny ignored the question and turned to Harry. "Is someone going to go down there!" she snapped.

Harry indicated for Ron to follow him to the ground. They flew down and hopped off their brooms, walking over to Draco with a sort of intimidating, menacing look about them.

"Malfoy."

Draco met their gazes evenly. "Weasley. Potter."

Ginny swooped down and stepped up beside Harry. She took deep breath and forced a smile. "Hello, Malfoy."

"Hello, Weasley."

"Malfoy," Ginny said. "One, you keep calling me that and, I'm not Weasley anymore, I'm a Potter." She grinned widely. "And two, there are…what? Ten other Weasleys here? You're going to have to address by our _first_ names."

Draco chuckled. "How am I supposed to tell the difference?" he asked. "You all look the same."

Ron stepped forward his grip tightening on his broom.

Harry stared at Ginny. "You've seen him recently?" he asked. Harry looked to Draco for the answer.

Draco shrugged.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Ron demanded.

Draco looked at Ginny, hoping for some sort of answer from her. She shrugged and gave him a look to say 'you're on your own'.

He glared at her and then turned to the two buffoons in front of him. "You know, I'll leave that for Granger to explain."

"The baby?" Ron asked.

"Juliet," Draco said, "my daughter."

"Your—your—daughter?" Harry stammered.

"You're kidding," Ginny deadpanned.

Draco shook his head. "Not in the slightest."

"Do you want to play?" Ginny offered a slight smirk pulling at her lips.

Draco gestured to the little girl in his arms. "I can't."

"Leave her with Fleur," Ginny instructed. "Or my mum and Hermione. She's inside, isn't she?"

Draco wasn't going to be afraid. He wasn't going to refuse out of fear. Never. He went inside and asked Hermione to mind Juliet for him. He was going to play quidditch.

"Malfoy," Ginny called as she tossed him a broomstick. "This isn't me being nice, it's just fair warning. Watch the bludgers. They'll be around you a lot."

"Can I play beater?" he asked.

"No," Harry said flatly.

"Brilliant," Draco muttered.

* * *

**A/N: I apologize for lack of editing, please feel free to point out any mistakes (unless it's punctuation. I rarely care for that.)I hope you enjoyed this and thank you to all who reviewed the last chapter. And the ones before that. It's more than encouraged that you click that little button again! **

**Let me know if there's anything you'd like to see in the next chapter. I can try and work it in.**

**Thanks lovelies!**

**Anyways,**

**Scarlett**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Yay 100 reviews! Thank you all so much! Keep reading!**

* * *

"Draco," Bill called, "you're with Harry, Charlie, and George."

"What?" Harry and George demanded. "Why?"

"It makes the teams even!" Bill shouted. "Not my fault!"

"Can we trade for Ron?" Harry asked.

"No," Angelina said. "Ron's playing keeper. No way."

The teams were already awkward. They had a keeper, two chasers and one beater. No seeker. They were playing in a small area anyway, but when the teams were uneven they all had half a mind to go in and find Mr. Weasley to get him to play.

"Malfoy, you're chaser with Harry," Charlie said. "George's our beater and I'm playing keeper. They've got Ginny playing beater there."

Draco mounted his broom, kicked off and joined them up in the air. He kept his distance from the rest of his team and nodded at them for the game to resume.

Harry pitched the quaffle high in the air between him and Angelina, then managed to zoom straight under to catch it and fly towards the makeshift goals they had. Draco flew forward to get into open space and then was hit. Rather hard really.

He was knocked to the side and nearly fell off the old, rickety, broom he had been given. Except, Ginny was in front of him and he got hit from the side. Harry whipped the quaffle through the right goal post while Ron had his guard down, laughing at Draco.

"Oi!" Draco shouted as he craned his neck to look at George on his left. "What the buggering hell was that?"

"Had to get the bludger away from Harry," George shrugged.

"We're on the same team, Weasley!"

Three other voices chorused back, "No we're not."

"Shut it," Draco grumbled.

George and Ginny turned their beater's bats in their hands. "What was that?" Ginny asked.

"Sorry, I was addressing…George?"

"Point one for Ferret," George laughed. "Somebody get that quaffle back in the air!"

Bill tossed the quaffle up and Angelina went in and caught it, throwing it back to Bill. Draco intercepted it and flew towards the goals. Ron kicked his attempted toss out and then yelled to Angelina, "Switch with me!"

Angelina looked at him. "No! I'm not playing keeper!"

"Switch with me!" Ron demanded.

"_No_." Angelina caught Bill's pass and headed towards Charlie. They scored and then Bill switched with Ron.

Draco caught the quaffle and passed to Harry, Draco moved forward and Harry threw the quaffle back to him as George hit another bludger. Ron flew alongside Draco and elbowed him to get the quaffle. He jostled his side and kicked the tail of his broom.

"Cobbing! Foul!" Draco called.

Ginny sent a bludger his way and Draco ducked on his broom. "The ref didn't see it," Ginny called back as Draco pitched the quaffle back to Harry.

"Who's the ref?" Draco asked.

"There isn't one!"

* * *

Finally they were all called in for brunch. Hermione stepped out into the back, holding Juliet against her chest as she looked up at them on their broomsticks.

"Brunch is ready when you are!" she called. The last goal was scored and then they all dove down and landed steadily on the ground.

They put away the brooms, bats and balls. Harry, Ron and Ginny all immediately marched up to Hermione. Draco walked over to her as well, although he didn't have the same furious expression on his features as the rest of them did.

Ginny got to her first. "_This_ was how you decided you'd let them in on it?" she asked. "I was under the impression you were brilliant."

Hermione sighed, "I wasn't sure how to break it to them."

"Well you chose a real idiotic way," Ginny snapped.

Hermione looked at the redheaded woman, first in shock then in anger. "Stop it, okay. What would you have suggested?"

The question was left unanswered as Ron and Harry attacked her with questions of their own. "You brought the ferret here?" Ron demanded.

"Hermione, why on Earth would you bring Malfoy here?" Harry asked. "Since when do we even _associate_ with Malfoy?"

"We don't," Hermione said—as calm as she could manage. "I do."

"_You_ do?" Ron asked. "Hermione, what the hell?"

"Ronald, watch the language, you're in the presence of children," Hermione scolded, looking at Victoire and James, then at Juliet.

"What is this Hermione?" Harry asked. "Is he threatening you? Blackmailing?"

Hermione couldn't help but be angry with her friends for their accusations. Even though Harry was speaking with sincere concern in his voice, she found it incredibly rude of him to ask such things with Draco standing right behind them.

"No, Harry," Hermione said, "he's not."

"I don't want him here," Ron declared. He turned to Draco. "_Leave_ Ferret," he ordered.

Draco looked at Hermione. He held out his hands for Juliet.

"No," Hermione told him. "You aren't going anywhere. Ron it's not your place to tell him to leave right now. Your mother's already said he could stay. Now could we please go inside, eat brunch and not fight over this."

Draco's arms dropped back to his sides and he took a deep breath.

"Not fight over this?" Harry repeated incredulously. "Hermione, you couldn't possible think that you could just bring Malfoy here, give us a smile, and expect us to welcome him with open arms and warm hearts!"

She sighed. "You're right. I can't. But I'd appreciate if right now we could just go in and eat brunch and then we'll all discuss this after."

"Hermione," Ginny started.

"I promise," Hermione interrupted. "We'll talk about it after. Until then you'll be civil."

"Is Malfoy even capable of being civil?" Ron sneered.

"I am if you are," Draco responded. He took Juliet from Hermione and went inside, the others following behind him.

* * *

They ate in almost dead silence.

Everything looked the same. Everyone's plate piled high with food, a good half of the people there stuffing food into their mouths like there was no tomorrow. But other than requests to pass the salt, syrup or pancakes, nothing was said.

Not even Mr. or Mrs. Weasley tried to start a conversation.

Hermione wasn't sure whether this was better or worse than fighting.

She cleared her throat, "So, um, Harry, how's work going?"

"Fine," he said.

"Anything interesting happen?"

"No, not really."

"Oh." She looked down at her plate and swore she heard George chuckle but when she looked up his expression matched that of the others', stoic and blank.

Draco shook his head at her sad attempt to start conversation. He held one of Juliet's small hands in his as she sat on his lap. "So," he said, "anyone follow the quidditch leagues?"

All of their heads snapped up, and about half of their mouths opened to say something. But then they realized who had asked the question and they thought better of it, instead filling their mouths with French toast and scrambled eggs.

Either she took pity on him or it was just too good of a conversation to pass up for her. Either way Ginny sat up. "Chudley Cannons ruled in that last match," she grinned.

Draco leaned forward, "No, it was close. Anyone could have won it."

"But their new seeker—" Ginny began.

"Got lucky," Draco finished.

"No way!" Ginny exclaimed. "He was amazing! That was skill."

Charlie laughed, "You're kidding me, Gin. I'm sure that's what he told you."

Ginny glared. "No, I _saw_ it. And I talked to them after the match, it was good match."

"Wait. You _talked_ to them?" Draco asked, amazed.

"It's my job, I'm a journalist," Ginny explained. "And I happen to know that seeker you were just bashing."

"You know Donovan?" he asked in disbelief.

"It just so happens I do."

"That's awesome," Draco said.

"I know. With him they might just pull off this turn around they've got going."

"You used to play too, didn't you?" he asked.

George nodded. "Gin played for the Harpies."

Draco nodded, "Those girls are something else."

"Hey!" Angelina exclaimed.

"In a good way," Draco assured.

George raised his eyebrows. "If you're talking about that new girl Jensen then a _really_ good way." Angelina smacked his arm. "Ow!" he cried.

Draco chuckled. "Someone pass potatoes, would you?"

He served himself, took a bite and put his fork down, just as Juliet began to cry. He quickly reached down to the diaper bag and when he sat back up, Harry, Ron, George, Angelina, and Ginny all had their wands pointed at him.

Draco froze. "What did I do?"

Hermione looked appalled. "Put the wands away," she snapped. "He was getting her bottle you idiots."

"Rather be safe than sorry," Harry muttered.

Draco laughed, slightly nervously.

Hermione took the baby from him. "Draco, go fix the bottle," she instructed. "And the rest of you: benefit of the doubt please."

They tucked their wands away.

Draco stood, bottle in hand, and went into the kitchen. He fixed the bottle and then ran it under warm water. A minute later he was walking back to the table, shaking the bottle. Hermione held out an arm for him and he shook a few drops onto her inner wrist.

"Perfect," she nodded.

They were getting odd looks from a few people around the table and Hermione laughed. "Your body can only measure temperature relevant to your skin's temperature," she said. "Draco's always seems to be off." Blank looks. She shook her head and took the bottle from Draco, feeding the little girl herself.

* * *

"Okay, Hermione," Ron said. "Out with it. What. The hell. Is going. On."

Hermione listened as she heard the distant sound of the front door shutting. George, Angelina, and Charlie were inside having coffee and tea with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Ginny, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Draco and Juliet were outside, everyone else had left.

The mid-September breeze was kicking in and it was nice. Enjoyable. Or at least it would have been if she hadn't been pulled out of her seat as soon she popped her last bit of pancake into her mouth. She made Draco come outside with them, dragging her feet as Ginny pulled her until she saw Draco out of his seat as well.

"Ask. Away," she replied.

"When did you and the jackass become friends?" Ron asked.

"Oh, that's nice Weasley," Draco commented. "Indirectly directly call me a jackass. In front of my daughter. What a jackass move."

"Hey!" Hermione yelled.

"You know what," Ron stepped forward, towards Draco and Draco passed Juliet to Hermione.

"What, Weasley?" Draco asked.

"We just call them as we see them," Ron glared. "Ferret."

"Weasel," Draco returned.

"Ron, Draco," Hermione warned.

Harry kept a hand close to his wand as he stared Draco down. "Just how long have you two been friends?" he questioned.

Hermione paused. "Early August," she said.

"Early August?" Ron yelled. "You're kidding me!"

Harry stared at Hermione and Draco. "Crap Hermione. You're not dating him are you?"

"Holy shit, Hermione!" Ron exclaimed. "You're dating this idiot? Tell me you're not dating the Ferret!"

Draco laughed humourlessly. "It'd be better than when she dated you, idiot," he retorted.

"I'm not dating him," Hermione said. "We're friends."

Ron narrowed his eyes, "Are you sure?"

"That's what I said!" Ginny exclaimed.

Hermione shot her a look and she shut her mouth. "You know what? I'm could use a cup of tea," Ginny said. "I'll take Juliet inside; she can hang out with James." Harry nodded and squeezed Ginny's hand before she left, taking Juliet with her.

"Wait…" Ron looked at Hermione. "Is that your baby?"

Hermione's mouth dropped open. "Ronald!" she shouted. "You idiot! I think you would've _seen_ me pregnant! Do I look like I had a baby?" she demanded.

"Ooh," Draco sucked in air. "Stupid move there, Weasel."

"I didn't mean it that way," Ron said through gritted teeth.

Harry hit Ron on the back of the head and then looked at Hermione. "Forgetting Ron's stupid question, could you just tell us _why_ you're friends with him? All he's ever done was try to make our lives miserable."

"Potter—" Draco started.

Harry held up a hand, "No, Malfoy. I want to hear it from her."

"I just wanted to apologize," Draco said, "for everything I did to you all in the past. Sorry."

"Like you give a crap," Ron said.

Draco leaned down, talking lowly into Hermione's ear. "Can I go now? Or is this what you brought me here for?"

Hermione looked down. "Go ahead."

Draco nodded and left.

Hermione looked at her two best friends. "Ginny gave me that whole speech a few days ago. I don't need to hear it again from you two. You both need to understand that I'm friends with him, and _I_ see that he's changed. You don't have to like it. You just have to accept it."

"He was a death eater Hermione," Harry said.

"And it wouldn't be the first time one of them has turned themselves around, now would it?" she pointed out.

Harry sighed and Ron stared at his feet.

"It's not easy to look past something like that."

"It's not easy," Hermione agreed. "But it most certainly is possible. And with us possibility is all we need, isn't it?"

Harry laughed and Ron kicked at the ground.

She hugged Harry tightly, let go and smiled. "You'll try?" she asked.

"No promises," he said. "But I'll make an attempt. One wrong move though and that git is done for."

Hermione looked at Ron.

"I'm sorry," he apologized.

She laughed. "It's okay Ron. And you know I'm probably the only woman in the world that would say that."

"I know," he looked sheepish. "I wasn't thinking. Look, Hermione, I can't stand the bloke."

"I know," she said.

"I think he's the scum of the earth."

"I'm aware."

"And I think you're bloody insane."

"Good to know."

"And you're friends with him."

"Yes, I am."

"Okay, fine," Ron nodded. "But I'm with Harry. _This_ is a second chance. And I don't know if anybody, least of all _him_, deserves a third."

"And that's perfectly fine," Hermione agreed. She hugged him too. "You both are so kind hearted," she smiled.

"Don't push it."

* * *

**A/N: I know, it's pretty short. But I got a little stuck, this was the best I could do. I hope you enjoyed it. Sorry if you didn't.**

**I'd appreciate it if you would review. And thank you so much to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. And thank you to Elyssa and Sophia Byrne for the wonderful reviews. They were a real pick me up to read. Made me so happy.**

**And to fallenhero57: that's always great to hear.**

**I'm sure there are more than a couple of mistakes in this chapter so to anyone who picks up on them, please let me know.**

**Thanks for reading!**

**Anyways,  
Scarlett**


	14. Chapter 14

Hermione went inside and was relieved to see that Draco hadn't actually left. He sat on the couch with Juliet on his lap and James beside him. Ginny sat on the other side of James, alternating between talking to James and Draco.

"You sound bloody insane is what you sound like," Draco was telling her. "And I'm sure the child thinks so too."

"What are you talking about?" Hermione asked with a smile.

He was surprised in her quick change in demeanour. Gone were the hard stares and scolding tones and out were the pretty smiles and melodic laughter. She raised an eyebrow at him for an answer.

"Oh," he said. "Ginny was telling me about how if you talk to a baby they'll understand and answer you. I don't believe it for a second."

She laughed. "Ginny I worry about you."

"Well when he says it like that," Ginny said. "I was explaining how James is getting pretty close to talking. And then I told him how if he wants Juliet to talk sooner rather than later, he needs to talk _to_ her."

"Somehow I doubt that," Draco said. "I've yet to hear a word out of that boy's mouth." He pointed at James with a smile.

"He's only thirteen months old!" Ginny pointed out. "And I didn't say he _could_ talk, I said he was getting _close_. The whole sound thing is slowly coming out of him. The other day he said 'brib'. And I swear he said 'mummy' once but Harry keeps insisting it was 'memmen'."

Hermione laughed. As Harry walked up behind her and sat next to Ginny. "James' first word is going to be 'dada'," he said. "And when it is Gin here is going to owe me quite a few galleons."

"Okay," Ginny agreed sarcastically. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."

Hermione looked at Draco. "Ginny has a point. If you want Juliet to start talking earlier we should talk to her. I mean, you never do that parent thing where they refer to themselves in third person."

"What are you talking about Granger?"

James started to cry and Ginny sighed. "Come on James," she cooed. "Mummy will change your diaper for you." She looked at Harry, "Heavens knows your father won't do it."

"That's what I mean," Hermione said.

"I help!" Harry protested but Ginny was already walking away with James.

Draco looked at Harry, "No bloke likes changing diapers," he sympathized.

"It's not the best activity for a woman either," Hermione pointed out.

"Hey, I forgot to ask," Harry began, "what do you want to do for your birthday?"

"Nothing," Hermione said.

"When's your birthday Granger?" Draco asked.

Hermione looked away as she mumbled, "Nineteenth."

"Nineteenth?" Draco asked. "October?"

"September," Harry corrected.

"September?" Draco repeated in surprise. "That's Wednesday."

"No shit," Ron said, coming into the room with a piece of toast in his hand.

Mrs. Weasley caught sight of him walking by, heard his language and called him into the kitchen to help her clean up.

He sighed and shoved more toast into his mouth before going into the kitchen.

"Your birthday's this week," Draco said. "Why didn't you mention it?"

"It's not a big deal," she told him. "It seemed irrelevant."

Draco looked a little horrified.

"Hermione, why do you get like this?" Harry asked. "It's your birthday; you're allowed to get excited."

"It's just another day, Harry," she said. "Honestly."

She picked Juliet up and made a face. "Well you need a changing," she noted. "Come on, let's go." She picked up Juliet and the diaper bag and went upstairs to get her changed.

"Malfoy," Harry said, "we're going out to dinner for Hermione's birthday this Friday."

"Really," Draco nodded.

"Well," Harry started, "seeing as you and Hermione are now so close, I figure we should invite you as well."

"Thank you," Draco forced out.

Harry just nodded in response.

"Potter…just what exactly should I get her for her birthday?" he asked.

Through his spectacles the raven haired man gave him an obvious look. "It's Hermione. Get books. Just be careful it's not anything she already has."

"Well that's helpful."

"Get her whatever you like. Or don't get her anything at all," Harry said. "But I'll tell you one thing: with Hermione it really is the _thought_ that counts."

Draco raised an eyebrow.

Harry sighed exasperatedly. "I mean you can't _buy_ her affection Malfoy."

"Who says I _want_ her affection, Potter?" Draco countered.

"Something tells me you've already got it," Harry muttered. "Look Malfoy, all I'm saying is that you throwing your money around won't make her happy. Your consideration might though." He wanted to add a snide 'if you have any consideration', but he bit his tongue in favour of Hermione.

Draco thought about this. What else did he know but to throw his money around? How else was he supposed to impress anybody, most of all Hermione? And get her _books_? For crying out loud it was Hermione Granger! She had books! She had _tons_ of books! He couldn't just get her a book. That wasn't good enough.

"Got you all cleaned up." Hermione kissed Juliet's cheek as she came down the stairs. "Mrs. Weasley?" she called.

Molly stepped out of the kitchen. "Yes, Hermione?"

"We're going to get going," she said. "But brunch was wonderful as always, thank you." She gave Draco a sort of encouraging look and he sat up.

"Oh," he said. "Thank you Mrs. Weasley. It was delightful."

"You're very welcome," she smiled. "And Draco you're welcome to join us again."

He smiled back at her and Hermione propped Juliet on her hip as she grabbed the diaper bag. "See you soon Harry." She hugged him goodbye and thanked him as well.

"Wednesday?" he asked.

She shook her head, "I don't know. If you want to drop by…I'll probably be in my pyjamas but you and anyone else are more than welcome to come by. But let's not do anything big alright?"

"Sure, Hermione," he agreed.

Ron jogged out of the kitchen to bid Hermione goodbye as well.

"Where's Ginny?" Harry questioned.

"Oh she's upstairs trying to put James down for a nap. He was getting a little fussy. I've already told her goodbye," Hermione nodded.

Draco stood and followed Hermione to the door, which Draco opened as her hands were full. They stepped outside and Harry waved before shutting the door behind them as they walked a little ways since you couldn't apparate or disapparate within the Burrow.

As they walked Hermione gave him a smile. "Thank you," she said, "for coming here with me even though it was to no benefit of yours. It was very nice of you."

"Ah, it was fine," he told her.

"Liar," she laughed.

"Alright. So the people were judgemental the environment became hostile but the food was good."

"At least that's honest," she acknowledged. "So what are we doing?"

We.

And all he could think was that _he_ wasn't good enough.

* * *

Hermione poured red wine into two glasses, a droplet or two splashing onto the bottom of her shirt. She looked down and frowned. Oh well, at least it was only her pyjama shirt.

She carried the wine glasses over to the couch and handed one to Draco. She tucked her feet under her and curled up about a foot away from him. "Juliet was asleep?" she asked.

"Just about," Draco said. "Estelle says that babies need to learn to fall asleep on their own. So we've been putting her in her crib drowsy, not sleeping."

Hermione nodded. "Sounds like a good idea," she said.

Draco drank from his wine glass and leaned back. His eyes closed from the bright light coming through the window and Hermione smiled at him, and though his eyes were close he felt both her gaze and warm smile. She looked through the large glass doors that led to her balcony and the bright summer sunset that lit the sky and set her flat aglow.

She sipped her Merlot and felt the bittersweet liquid go down her throat. She didn't drink wine often; she needed to be in a certain mood and in certain company to enjoy it. But this particular evening with Draco Malfoy for company? It seemed to fit nicely. So she took another sip contently.

He opened one eye to look at her. "Damn Granger," he said. "When did you get beautiful?

She laughed. "Oh, don't tell me your drunk after only a sip," she teased.

She took another sip of her wine and then leaned her head back on the couch cushions, sighing. He stared at the curvature of her smooth neck, both eyes open now.

He sat up and turned to face her, moving closer to her. He tilted his glass back and downed more Merlot. "So, Granger, what would you like for your birthday?"

"Nothing," she told him sincerely.

"Don't lie," he said. "Everyone has _something_ they would like."

"Not a thing," she replied, shaking her head.

He looked at her. "Alright. Forgetting your birthday then, what's something you'd like?"

She laughed and he supressed a smile at the sound, keeping a straight face. "For you and I to both quit our jobs," she told him.

"You know you can quit whenever you like," he reminded.

"Yes, but then I would be jobless. And I'd have to go look for another job and unlike some people," she gave him a pointed look, "I can't afford to be unemployed for long."

"You're Hermione Granger for Merlin's sake," he said. "You'd be hired in seconds."

"You don't know that," she told him. "And you know, _you_ could quit whenever you like as well. And you wouldn't have to worry about a thing."

He laughed. "Yes. But _I _am not the one who hates their job."

"For umpteenth time," she cried, "I do _not_ _hate_ my job!"

"Well you certainly aren't enthusiastic towards it," he said.

She hit his arm and drank from her glass. He finished the rest of his and Hermione offered him another.

He declined and placed his empty glass on the coffee table. He noticed a note, card paper, folded in half next to his glass.

"What's this?" he asked, picking it up.

She yawned. "A letter."

"From?" he questioned. Without waiting for her answer he unfolded it.

She imitated his voice, "Hermione, may I read it?" In her own voice, "I'd rather you didn't Draco." She lowered her voice, "Oh, alright. Fine."

"I don't sound like that," he pointed out. "And when have I ever called you Hermione?"

He began to read the letter and she didn't bother to take it from his hands.

_Dear Hermione,_

_I was hoping we could get together and have dinner sometime soon. If you're not busy. _

_It was great last time. _

_Love,_

_Michael_

"What the hell is this?" he asked.

"A letter," she repeated.

"Who's Michael?"

"Michael Gardner. I went out on a date with him, and Ginny and Harry."

"…Wasn't that over a week ago?"

"Yes," she said.

"And he's only now owling you?"

She shrugged slightly. "He owled me a couple times…but I was always busy so…"

"Busy? Granger the only thing you're ever busy with is work."

"Not only."

"Why lead him on? Why not tell him you just don't like him?" he suggested.

"What makes you think I don't like him?" she demanded.

"Granger," he said.

"Draco," she returned. "Don't make assumptions."

"Do you like him?"

"That's none of your concern."

"Granger, answer me."

"I already did."

She put her glass down angrily.

"Yes or no," he said. "Do you like him?"

"I don't know," she told him, honestly. "But quite frankly, that's of no matter to you."

"What dignified man signs with 'love'? After one date?" Draco muttered.

She stood and picked up the two wine glasses, going to the kitchen and placing them in the sink. She picked up the dish sponge and began to wash them out, one by one. She covered the glasses in suds and felt the warm water run over her hands as she rinsed them off.

Draco sighed and got to his feet as well and walked to the kitchen to stand behind her at the sink. She jumped and nearly smashed the glass into the side of the sink as he reached around her waist. She turned and looked at him sharply.

"Sorry," he apologized and then his hand moved to the dish towel hanging on the cupboard handle she stood in front of. He pulled it out and then stepped beside her, taking one glass from her hand and drying it.

She looked at him with narrowed eyes and shook her head, not saying a word. A moment later he took the second glass from her hand and began to dry it as she mumbled a soft, "It's okay."

He finished with the glass and placed it on the counter. Hermione reached up and opened a cupboard to put them away. Just as she finished and shut the cupboard she turned. "Oh!" she said. "I almost forgot."

She left the kitchen and went into her bedroom, disappearing for a moment and then reappearing a few seconds later. She handed him a large book.

"A book," he said.

"A treasury," she amended. "Bedtime stories, to read to Juliet. I saw it the other day and I…well I just remembered all the stories my father used to read to me before bed. He did all of the characters' voices just right. Some of my favourites are there." She pointed at the beautifully illustrated cover. "_The Velveteen Rabbit, The Tortoise and the Hare, The Little Dutch Boy_."

"Thank you," he nodded.

"You're welcome."

Hermione yawned and went back to the couch, curling up in the corner and getting comfortable. "I don't know why I'm so tired," she said. "Honestly. It's too early to sleep."

Draco chuckled and sat beside her.

"You should read me one," she said.

"Pardon?"

"Read me a story," she clarified. At his silence she negotiated. "Oh come on," she said. "You don't even have to do the voices. Just read the tale."

Never would he ever do something so juvenile for anyone. With the exception of Juliet. And apparently Hermione as he opened the thick book and began to read to her the tale of _The Velveteen Rabbit_.

His voice was smooth as ever and he read quietly in the dim light. Hermione leaned over to rest her head on the cushion just beside his shoulder, and peered over at the detailed art that showed the story.

Draco was startled at the sudden weight as Hermione fell right against him, dozing off. She opened her eyes and sat up a smidge. "Sorry."

"S'alright," he said. He sunk lower on the couch and moved so that she could once again lean on him and she did without question.

Less than a minute later Draco was smiling down at her sleeping figure. He hadn't finished the story, but he skimmed the pages and looked at the pictures before quietly shutting the book. He played with one of her brown curls as she lay fast asleep, curled into his side.

He checked his watch and decided it was probably about time he went home. So he picked her up, careful not to let her head fall back and stood.

In obvious ways it wasn't a thing like carrying Juliet. He had picked Hermione up bridal style and had both arms to support her and used actual strength to carry her. But at the same time he felt the same sort of comfort Juliet gave him when she was in his arms. A sense of security even though _he _was the one holding _her_.

He pushed Hermione's bedroom door open, grateful she had left it partially open. He laid her on top of her covers and sighed, taking a moment to look around.

Her walls were painted light blue and the colour of white sand and her furniture was a very light wood, her bedding cream. She had a walk in closet, a vanity, chest of drawers, and desk with a stationary set neatly organized atop it.

It looked like Hermione Granger. A chair sat in one corner with a lamp positioned for reading and everything.

He found a blanket on the wooden trunk at the foot of her bed and spread it over her. He smiled at her.

She woke up again and looked up at him, "Kiss Juliet goodnight for me. Lock the door on your way out."

He nodded. "Sure. Goodnight, Granger."

"Goodnight Draco," she said, muffled as she barely moved her lips and nodded off to sleep again.

He shut her bedroom door behind him, as softly as he could. Then walked out to the living room, picked up the treasury and went to the door.

Walking out of her flat he turned and used his wand to lock the door behind him as per her request. Though he would have done it anyway. He already thought it careless of her to not put up _all_ wards possible.

He disapparated and went to the manor, going straight upstairs to the nursery. He kissed Juliet twice goodnight, once for himself and once for Hermione and then he went into his own bedroom to get ready for bed.

He changed his clothes and such and then got into the silk sheets of his large bed. No one tucking him in or kissing him goodnight. He got comfortable and closed his eyes.

He wasn't tired yet. Not at all. It was still early and he knew he couldn't plan on falling asleep anytime soon. But still he lay there, not knowing what to do with himself exactly.

The covers folded at his waist, he ran his hands through his hair and rolled over. The large house was silent, as if it had been deserted. A lingering emptiness about it as always.

He thought of Hermione and the warmth that seemed to just radiate off of her wherever. Her bright smiles and kind looks. The way she talked when she was upset, firm without being loud, yet scary as hell anyway. How whenever she made contact with him he didn't pull away, at least, not anymore. He enjoyed her company and even after he wanted more of it.

He was besotted.

* * *

**A/N: Again, please point out any mistakes. That would be greatly appreciated. **

**So would reviews.**

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. I hadn't any time to reply between my own work that needed doing and writing this chapter.**

**I wonder how many of you are reading this still. **

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**Scarlett**


	15. Chapter 15

Hermione checked her watch and then began to shuffle the parchment back into the folder, smiling. She put her ink well, quill and pens in order and stood up, tucking her chair in. "Anna," she said, sticking her head out her office door whilst reaching behind her to get her purse, "I'm going to take my lunch a little early today, if that's alright."

"Fine with me," Anna replied. "You have something important going on?"

"Meeting some—"

"Malfoy."

"One," Hermione finished. "Yes, actually. Now, don't look at me like that."

Anna smiled, "What way?"

Hermione shook her head at her secretary and sighed. Anna scribbled a signature on a form and looked up, tucking her dark hair behind her ears and fixing her glasses atop her head. Hermione was staring at her with a look of pointedness.

"Miss Granger," Anna said blatantly, "with all due respect, there must be something."

"Something?" Hermione reiterated. "Something like what, may I ask? I presume you mean _more_ than our friendship."

Anna looked down at her hands in her lap and then looked up with a sheepish smile. "Oh come on, if _I_ were friends with…well we wouldn't be _friends_. At least not if I could help it."

Hermione laughed, having never heard anything like that from Anna. She pointed at a note on Anna's desk. "Is that for me?" she asked.

Anna hummed, "No. I had a message brought to me this morning. Haven't really looked at it yet."

Hermione smiled at her, "Hope it's good then. I'll see you later."

"Sure, Miss Granger."

"Hermione," she corrected. "I'll be back before your lunch starts."

"No worries," Anna said as Hermione shut her office door and then headed out.

* * *

William Langley watched Draco Malfoy sort of smile. A half smile. But a smile nonetheless. And in the two years he had worked as his assistant, never had he seen something like that from Draco Malfoy. He smiled back and Draco gave him a weird look.

"What the hell Langley?" Draco demanded.

Langley's smile dropped. "Sorry, Mister Malfoy."

Draco stepped out of his office and ran a hand over his hair. He shook his head and walked out of his office.

"Where are you going?" Langley asked good-naturedly.

Draco, despite his good mood, couldn't help but shoot his assistant an intimidating look. "None of your damn business."

"Sorry, Mister Malfoy," Langley apologized.

"Draco!" Hermione admonished. Draco swore under his breath but smiled at the sound of her voice anyway. "Will," Hermione said, "you mustn't let Draco treat you this way." She gave him a sly look and Draco had a feeling they had discussed him before.

Will smiled. "Ah, he barely means a word of it," he dismissed.

"Like hell," Draco muttered.

"Draco," Hermione laughed. "Are we going to lunch?"

"We are," Draco confirmed. He walked past Langley's desk and out to the open corridor.

"Bye Will," Hermione waved and followed Draco out. "Where to?" she asked.

He shrugged.

"Hmm…" She looked around. "Oh," she said, "okay, we'll have to apparate." She looped her arm through Draco's and pulled out her wand, shutting her eyes tight.

"And where exactly—" he stopped as the squeezing feeling cut him off and he was transported.

Hermione took a deep breath. "Should be just around the corner," she mused. She reached behind her and got a hold of Draco's wrist, tugging him out of the alley she had apparated them into and towards the restaurant. Her hand slipped down to grasp his as she pulled him down the short length of street to the restaurant. Draco picked up his pace to keep a grip on her hand as she just about jogged towards her destination.

Draco looked around. "This is muggle," he stated.

Hermione turned to stare at him as she dropped his hand to open the door. He frowned, though she believed it to be because of the setting. "And?" she prompted.

"You didn't mention—" he started.

"It didn't seem to matter."

He had to admit, it bothered him a bit. The foreignism of it may have unnerved him a little, knowing that none of these people carried a wand in their pocket the same way he did. He was beyond the prejudices but he still saw the differences. Not to say he thought he was better, just different.

He dodged around a few people as he followed her into the restaurant.

Hermione walked up to the hostess and smiled. "For two?"

They were seated near the back of the half full restaurant and Draco stared at the floor. Hermione smiled, "It's not just you," she assured. The restaurant was built on uneven ground. So as you walked to the back of the restaurant you walked at a slight angle upwards. It was odd but it made the little place even more charming in Hermione's eyes.

They shared lunch together, talking and joking and such. Once they had finished their meals Draco put down his fork. "I've decided what I'll get you for your birthday," he told her.

"Draco, it's not necessary. I don't expect anything," she said.

He gave her a look. "Shut up Granger."

Her eyes narrowed at him and she shook her head but kept her mouth shut.

"As I was saying," Draco continued. "Your present. It's going to take a while."

"Really."

"Yes."

"Well that's very kind of you but—"

"You need to learn when to stop talking," Draco cut in.

"We better get back to work," Hermione stated, checking her watch and sighing. "Work."

"We don't _have_ to."

"I have to. Or else I'll be fired. And unemployed and—"

"Yes, yes we've been over this," Draco nodded. "Again Granger, shut it."

They both put money on the table, it was Draco's turn to tip, and then they stood. "You know," Hermione said, "that's more than rude of you."

"You think I care?"

"Not a bit."

"You really are brilliant."

* * *

He woke up in a cold sweat. His sheets were a tangled mess around his legs and his hair was matted down to his forehead, wet with his perspiration. His pulse was beating fast and hard, he felt as if his whole body was pulsating.

Ashamed to admit it to himself, Draco knew the wet tracks leading into the sides of his hair were salty. Tears. His white t-shirt was practically transparent on him and twisted around his torso. He sat up fast and the room shook for a second before the head rush subsided.

She was there, smiling like before. Before everything. Glass in hand, they sat at the bar, all three of them. Like before. She was laughing as he kept a straight face and Blaise snapped at the bartender. Like before. She was already drunk, but it made her happier. And though he held his liquor well he could feel himself drifting off too.

And then he heard her screaming. In pain. In fear. Screaming so bloody loud it was piercing and he swear it rang out even as he was awake. His hands slid into his dampened hair and he yelled himself, a loud, distraught and mangled cry.

"Kobs," he rasped.

The elf stood in front of him.

"Yes Master Draco?" Kobs said. He looked at his master with wide eyes.

"Hermione," he said without thinking. He sat up against his headboard and ran his hands through his hair, tugging at it as he pulled back. He rubbed at his eyes but it wouldn't go away.

"Miss," Kobs nodded and then he was gone.

This had happened to him before, but he never woke up so…scared. He wanted to forget. To go on without any memory of it. He pushed it to the back of his mind but that's just the problem with sleep. When asleep you can't get away from your subconscious. That's what takes over, that's what fights its way through any barrier you put up. Fighting its way to the front of your mind, forcing you to think, hear and see things you try desperately not to.

"What's going on?" she asked as soon as she felt her feet on solid ground. She stood outside Draco's bedroom, Kobs bringing them there instead of inside so as not to violate his master's privacy. Hermione walked straight into the bedroom anyway.

She looked at him, his head lolled back against the headboard, silk sheets wrapped around him in disarray. His eyes were half shut but brimming with tears. He didn't notice her enter the room. She was half asleep, her own eyes barely open and she was craving sleep, having been awoken by Kobs.

"It's two a.m.," she grumbled. "Draco?" Her brow furrowed in concern and she rushed over to him then stopped hesitantly at the side of his bed.

He wished he hadn't asked for her. He felt weak, in every sense of the word, and…vulnerable. "Oh Merlin," she breathed. "Draco, you're—you're…Merlin. Give me a minute."

She wandered into his bathroom and splashed cool water on her face. She ran her hand down from her hairline to her chin and then pulled at her t-shirt to wipe her face dry. She took a deep breath and dried her hands as well then went back out to the bedroom feeling somewhat more awake. She crawled onto the large bed and knelt next to Draco, who had slouched down and was breathing rather heavily. "What's wrong?" she asked softly.

He opened his eyes and shook his head. "Pans…"

Hermione's heart broke a little at the sound of his voice. How sad he sounded, how helpless. "Draco," she murmured. Her lips pressed together in thought and then she looked down. Stretching her legs out in front of her, she moved farther away from him, just a bit, but Draco felt the distance. And then he didn't. She reached around his broad shoulders and pulled him towards herself until he lay down across the bed with his head in her lap.

Despite the perspiration she began to stroke his hair, running her slender fingers through the mess of platinum blonde. One hand rested lightly on the juncture between his shoulder and neck. "Breathe," she whispered. "Deep breath."

He did as she instructed and he calmed. He felt his heartbeat slow to a steady pace and he got comfortable lying down.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked.

"No."

"Draco, maybe if you—"

Her fingers continued through his hair as he shook his head.

"No."

"Bad dream?"

"Yes."

"What happened?"

"None of your business."

She felt like they had just relapsed. Reverted back to the way they were four months ago. Even though she knew that…_something_ was going on with him right now, she couldn't help but feel a little hurt. A slight sting at his oh too familiar words.

"Alright, then," she nodded. Thoughtlessly she continued, "That's fine. I came over here at two a.m. with no idea as to _why_ I came over here. It's Tuesday and in five hours I'm going to have to get ready for work. But I'm here. Wide awake. With you. For reasons that are…'none of my business'." She sighed.

"Then leave," he said, sitting up and immediately missing her touch. "Just go."

"Fine."

She stood up and strode around the bed to the door. He didn't expect her to. He didn't even think he had meant it, but she did. She left.

The second she was out that door he regretted his words. His head fell forward and his chest rose as he took a vast breath.

"Hermione," he called. Louder. "Hermione." He threw off the sheets and leapt out of bed, bounding through the door and into the corridor on legs that were partially asleep.

"Oof!"

"Her—" He looked down. "What are you doing?"

"I'm okay," she said. "Don't worry about me. I'm fine."

She got up and smacked his arm.

"I thought you were leaving."

"I am. Sorry, I didn't leave quick enough." She patted her pyjama pants, looking for her wand but coming up with nothing. "Crap."

Draco just stared at her.

"I don't have my wand with me," she sighed.

He nodded. "That works out nicely. Would you please stay?"

"Seeing as I don't have much of another way home at this hour, I'm still…so tired and I really don't have the energy to fight right now and…I don't see why not."

To say Draco was relieved was an understatement. "Yip!" he called. "Two cups of coffee. One black one," he looked at Hermione for answer.

She looked at the elf, "_One_ cup of black coffee for the man who apparently does _not _want to sleep again tonight. And a cup of warm milk for me please."

Yip nodded and with a _crack_ was gone.

* * *

"Okay," Hermione sipped her milk, "whenever you're ready."

Draco finished his coffee quickly and then turned to look at her. She pulled the sheets up to her lap and waited.

"I don't know where to start."

"Then just tell me what you're thinking," she encouraged.

"I can't—" he began. He paused and let out a long breath. "I miss her."

Hermione smiled sadly.

"I dreamed—I dream about her. She dies. Every. Single. Time."

"Were you there?" Hermione asked quietly.

He shook his head. "No. Is that better or worse?"

"Both? Neither?" she said unsurely. "She died giving—giving birth, didn't she?"

"Yes. An aneurysm." His voice took on a slight tone of anger. "I wasn't even there. I wasn't. Even. Flippin'. There. Juliet was born and," he swallowed hard, "she died. I wasn't there."

He put his coffee mug down on his dark wooden side table and then lay down, his head in Hermione's lap just as before. He turned on his back and stared up at the starch white ceiling.

"You loved her?" Hermione asked.

"Of course I did," Draco told her. There was short pause before he added. "She was...well she wasn't an amazing person, but she was a good friend. To both me and Blaise. She actually cared." He laughed with barely a hint of humor. "She was a bloody pain in the arse. When she was pregnant I wanted to kill her. But… for us she was there."

"That's…great. Sounds like you were all good friends." She ran her fingers through his hair and she smiled. "I'm really sorry Draco. And you were in love with her…that—"

"No," he cut her off. He sighed, "I love her. I'm not _in_ love with her, though."

"What?"

"I was going to marry her," Draco informed her, focusing on the swirling textures of the ceiling. "Because of Juliet."

"Oh."

"I love her like a friend. Nothing more. But after we found out she was pregnant… her parents wanted nothing to do with her or the baby. I was going to propose to her after…and then…" His voice got tight. She heard it, but it was so sudden she thought she had imagined it. He fell quiet and she closed her eyes.

"Oh Draco."

It almost felt like she wasn't talking to Draco Malfoy. Not the Draco Malfoy she knew. This seemed to be someone completely different. He was distressed and grieving and he was opening up to her. That sense of guardedness was gone. It felt as if for once he was outright saying he truly needed her help and compassion.

She looked down at him to see him crying. Tears rolled down his cheeks with an emotion he couldn't describe in a word. He didn't move; he didn't look ashamed. He just lay there and cried as she watched over him, touching his hair and then sliding a soft hand down his cheek to wipe away the tears.

"It was the pressure and strain," he said.

One of her hands moved to massage his shoulder and then slide across his chest as he took deep breaths. Her other hand didn't stop its pattern though his hair, applying the slightest of pressure as it passed. She hummed a bit to acknowledge him, not knowing what to say. Her wrist brushed a tear sliding down his temple as Draco let out a shuddery breath.

"If it wasn't for me, it wouldn't have happened."

"What?" Hermione froze. "Draco, you can't possibly…"

"Except I can. I got her pregnant," Draco told her flatly. "It was one, stupid, drunken night. One last time for the hell of it. It wasn't that simple though." He laughed sardonically. "Merlin. How idiotic do you have to be to think that it can ever be simple?"

"Draco—" she started. She wanted to tell him he couldn't blame himself. She wanted to tell him that some things just happen; that there are some things _nobody_ can do _anything_ about.

"I killed her," he said.

"Draco!" she exclaimed. She pushed him to sit up and then looked him straight in the eyes, "Draco you cannot blame yourself for this."

"She died because of me," he argued.

"Can you honestly say you take it back?" Hermione asked. Her voice became soft, melting like butter despite the words that came next. "Draco, the world can be a terrible, terrible place. People…people die and it's horrible and awful, and we're not always prepared for it."

"You don't know what it's like—" he started.

"Draco, anyone who still lives in our world today knows what it's like," Hermione tried kindly. "It's…_beyond_ difficult to get through but you _will_ get through it. Dreadful things happen to even the best of us, for reasons we can't explain."

"Is this supposed to make everything okay?" he demanded. "I'm supposed to feel better about this because it happens to _everyone_. So what? The whole damned _world_ is shitty? Bloody great to hear."

"Yes Draco, yes the world is a horrible place. Lives are taken away—sometimes unexpectedly—but...at the same time…life is given."

* * *

Hermione slouched down, propped up by two ridiculously fluffy pillows. Her hand rested atop his soft, platinum blonde hair as she smiled at his sleeping form. "You needed to talk about it," she whispered. "I'm glad you did."

All she heard in response were the soft sounds of his breathing as he slept, finally, his features relaxed and his chest rising and falling at an even pace.

She was tired. Her eyelids felt heavy, her head felt droopy and she was grateful for the pillows since she could safely bet she'd have a hard time keeping herself upright. She kissed his temple and quietly wished him a goodnight.

It was four a.m. and in three hours she'd be up and moving again, heading to work. But somehow it was worth it. Somehow it didn't feel so miserable to be so tired. It just felt tired. She was spent, drowsy but happy.

Slipping out of the sheets, she padded out into the corridor and down to the nursery. She peeked in to check on Juliet and then continued to the empty bedroom she had stayed in before. She crawled thankfully into the made bed and quickly fell asleep.

* * *

**A/N: Okay. There it is. Sorry it took so long. Now, I really could use the reviews for this chapter, pretty please. I want to hear all of your opinions on whether or not this is how it should be. I was considering just backspacing paragraphs and paragraphs but I hit save. **

**Thank you all for last chapters reviews. Hope to hear more.**

**Thanks for reading!**

**Anyways,**

**Scarlett**


	16. Chapter 16

Draco awoke slowly, his eyes feeling sealed shut. He rubbed at them and felt the dry remains of tears. "Oh Merlin," he groaned. It all really happened. It all really happened at two in the morning. He cried in front of Hermione Granger. His father would have avada-ed him on the spot. Actually, he'd probably avada him twice over; once for crying and once for associating with a 'mudblood'.

He turned on his side and was disappointed and slightly surprised to not see Hermione beside him.

His voice was barely audible to his own ears as he muttered, "Couldn't expect her to stay you bleeding idiot." He got out of bed and went into the bathroom. After brushing his teeth and wiping his face with a cold cloth, he heard Juliet and Estelle in the nursery. He opened the door and looked in. "Good morning," he wished them.

"Good morning, Mister Malfoy."

"Draco," he told her.

"You look tired," she noted. "Are you going into work?" Estelle fixed her long, grey skirt and got Juliet out of her crib, laying her down on the changing pad set atop the dresser.

"I'll probably be home by one," Draco shrugged.

Estelle wiped Juliet clean as she fussed, her small hands hitting the changing pad crossly. "Is Hermione awake, then?" Estelle questioned, setting the clean diaper under Juliet.

"Hermione?" Draco raised an eyebrow. "She's still here?"

Turned away from him, the elderly woman smiled at the eagerness in his voice. "Yes, she's stayed in the guest bedroom, did she not? I passed by there this morning."

"The guest bedroom? Which one?" he demanded.

"The first bedroom that way," she pointed.

Draco kissed the now fully changed Juliet good morning and then walked out of the room and into the guest room. Hermione lay under the dark green bedding, covered neatly to her shoulders. Her lips were slightly parted, her hair a complete _mess_ around her head, and her left cheek had imprints from creases in the pillow case. He chuckled to himself. Despite all of that she was still cute, and though she didn't look her best anyone could tell she was beautiful.

He sat down on the bed and moved to gently shake her awake. Just as his hand touched his shoulder though, he froze. She wasn't awake. Her breathing was perfectly even and as he bounced once quickly on the bed, she shook slightly but didn't wake.

He eyed her carefully then slowly leaned down and gently kissed her slightly dry, yet soft lips. He felt warmer somehow, as he just as slowly pulled away. He licked his lips and smirked.

Though he wanted to, he refrained from kissing her again. Instead he brushed aside her hair and shook her shoulder. "Granger," he said. "Granger, are you going to wake up?"

Her eyes blinked open, yearning to shut again.

"Granger," Draco looked at her with a small smile, "it's nearly eight o'clock. Do you plan on going to work?" No response. "Granger?"

"I like it better when you call me Hermione," she mumbled.

"Do you plan on going to work," he fought to hold back a yawn, "Hermione?"

"Must I?"

"Not if you don't wish to," Draco said. "We could spend the day home if you want."

Even though Hermione still felt as if she was drifting in and out of sleep, she had enough consciousness to wonder if he meant that she'd go to her flat, or stay in the manor for the day. She blinked up at him. "Skip work?"

"Owl Anna, tell her you're ill."

"Lie," she grumbled.

"Lighten up, Hermione," he cajoled. Her name just seemed to roll now, no longer unfamiliar to him. It ceased to sound strange to his ears anymore.

"I'm going to work," she told him. "I should get up."

A quick twinge of disappointment hit him sharply. He frowned, though through her half closed eyes she missed it. "Really?" he asked incredulously.

She shook her head. He assumed she meant to nod as she followed the movement with, "I need to get dressed then. Anna will wonder where I am."

"Not if you tell her you're ill," Draco pointed out.

"I'm not lying to Anna," Hermione protested whilst rolling over. "I need to get up."

Draco outright laughed at her. "You're not getting up."

"I have to. Saying I stayed up too late and am too tired is so childish. And, no, I will not lie to Anna."

Draco shook his head. "Then I will." He left the room and came back less than a minute later with parchment, quill and ink in hand. He scribbled down a quick note and called Yip to send it off.

After a moment Hermione looked up. "What did you write?" she asked. She turned and her eyes shut tight. "Close the drapes, please."

He did as she requested and then sat down again. "I told her you weren't feeling up to work today."

"From me or you?"

"Me."

"Draco!" she swatted at him blindly.

He dodged her effortlessly. "What?"

"That sounds like I'm drunk! Or hung-over! Or that I…_stayed the night_."

"Oh." He shrugged. "Ah well. Anna will understand. And if she doesn't…" he waggled his eyebrows at her. This, she saw and she thwacked him hard on the arm and then kicked his lower back. He patted her knee in response. "Go back to sleep."

"No. I can't now."

"Yes you can, you're tired. Now sleep."

"What about you?"

"I'm not tired."

"How can you function on only four hours of sleep?" she mumbled.

"I'll be fine."

"If _I_ need to sleep, _you_ need to sleep," she ordered.

"Move over, then."

She did without thought and turned on her left. Draco crawled over her and got beneath the covers. The bed was large enough that they weren't touching, but where Draco was the sheets were cold. It seemed that heat was just radiating off of her though, and he moved in closer behind her.

He splayed out a bit, used to being in a king-sized bed by himself, and his ankle rested against hers. She pushed it back a bit. "You take up a lot of room," she told him. "You're entitled to _half_ of this bed."

Draco smirked and spread-out even more.

"Draco," she said.

"You're warmer. And technically speaking this is my bed as well," he replied.

He edged closer to her and she gave up. Closing her eyes, she relaxed. Draco's ankle hooked on top of hers and swiftly used the link to turn himself over and pull himself nearly right up against her back.

"You. Are. Freezing." Hermione's eyes popped open at the cold against her warm skin.

From her knee down was in direct contact with his cool skin, and the warm feeling she had been wrapped in moments ago was slowly growing faint. She turned to shoot him a glare, but his eyes were shut and his notorious smirk played on his lips.

A low grumble sounded from her throat.

Without opening his eyes he asked, "Did you just _growl _at me?"

She twisted around and kissed his cheek. "Yep."

His eyes opened wide at that and she laughed.

He narrowed his eyes at her and then closed the gap between their bodies, moving in so his front was pressed against her back.

"Draco."

"Shh," he shushed her. He closed his eyes again and inhaled the scent of her hair, clean and…lovely with a hint of vanilla. His knees folded in right against hers and his chest was against her back. Hermione reached for Draco's hand and pulled it across her waist. If he was insistent on being that close anyway, why not? Her hand covered his and her fingers fit between his comfortably.

She sighed and let her eyes close. She hummed in contentment and Draco seemed to repeat her sentiments in his own low buzz, his chest vibrating and making her curl in a bit. His arm tightened around her and he pulled her even closer.

"Hey," Draco said. "Hermione. Thank you for everything last night. Sorry to drop all of that on you. I haven't even told Blaise about all of that. Meant a lot though, that you listened and all. Sorry I was so hostile." He paused. "You're…you're truly amazing."

"Hmm?"

He realized she hadn't heard a word of what he had said. She was just a second away from deep sleep. He sighed, "Nothing. Go to sleep."

"Trying to."

* * *

Hermione woke up hours later, wrapped nicely in Draco's arms, her head resting comfortably and deep in the fluffy pillow. She turned to look at him, fast asleep and relaxed. She debated whether or not to get up. She was too comfy where she was and she knew moving, even the slightest bit, would ruin it.

It was probably noon now, she figured, nearing the typical hour she would have lunch at work. She continued to argue with herself on whether or not to get out of bed. With a deep breath and much effort, she decided she would.

Untangling herself from Draco's muscled embrace, she slid out of the bed and went over to the dresser set up at the wall. She surveyed her reflection. She did look well rested. Her hair was an entirely different situation however. Her hair was beyond messy.

She sighed and tied it into a messy, but controlled, knot at the nape of her neck. She nodded in satisfaction and then smiled at Draco. Sure he wasn't tired. She laughed to herself.

Hermione went downstairs and wandered to the kitchens. She refused the house elves offers and fixed a cup of tea for herself. She carried it into the library and settled at a small, circular table with two plush armchairs around it. She found a couple books and got comfortable.

An hour or so later Draco came through the library doors with Juliet on his hip and a plate of buttered bread and two dishes of pasta. He spotted Hermione and grinned. "Thought you went to work," he told her.

She shook her head. "No. I woke up a little while ago. I thought I'd read a bit. You were still fast asleep."

Draco set the plate down on the table and took the empty chair, Juliet sitting in the crook of his left arm and his lap. "Hungry?" he asked.

Hermione nodded. "Has Juliet been fed?"

"Yeah, Estelle finished giving her her bottle just as I went to get her." He gestured to the plate, "Help yourself."

Hermione did so happily, not realizing how hungry she had been until she'd taken her first bite of bread. Draco laughed at her expression. "Starved?"

"Just about."

He laughed again. "Listen, I'm going to have to leave in about an hour. You can stay here if you'd like, but I have an appointment I can't miss," he said.

"What kind of appointment?" she asked curiously.

"Blaise and I are meeting to look over something," he said smoothly. He played with Juliet's hands and the little girl smiled up at him.

"Okay," she nodded. "Well I'll just go back to my flat then. It's about time I got changed and such." She ate some pasta and stacked the books she had been reading into a neat pile. "I can take Juliet with me if you'd like."

He shook his head. "No, Estelle's here and all."

"Hey, I was thinking about that," Hermione said. "I mean, Estelle is here all the time but, well, I thought maybe you could talk to her about having one or two days off work a week. She may be an older woman but I'm sure she has things she'd like to do for herself. People she'd like to spend time with as well. And it'd be good for you to be able to spend time with Juliet."

Draco shrugged.

"Well it was just a thought," Hermione told him. She joked, "If you ever quit your job you could take a couple of week days."

He chuckled. "Sure." He checked the large clock on the far wall of the library. "I'm going to go get dressed," he told her.

"Oh. Yes, I should probably get going as well," she agreed.

"Did you want to meet for dinner later or something?" he offered.

"Actually, I have dinner plans. But thanks."

Draco paused as he stood from the armchair, Juliet smiling and laughing. "What sort of dinner plans?"

"A date," Hermione said.

"A date?" Draco repeated. "With who?"

"Michael," she replied simply. "I'm not entirely sure where we are going but he's taking me out to dinner."

Draco tried to brush it off as he stood with Juliet. "Alright then."

"Hope everything goes well with Blaise," she said.

Draco nodded. "I think it will."

"See you then," she smiled and stood. Walking over to him, she kissed Juliet goodbye and hugged him.

Draco kissed her cheek as she pulled away, "Thank you. Again."

"No need to thank me," she smiled. "I'm glad you talked about it. I'm there. Whenever."

* * *

Draco looked about the place and nodded.

"You're serious about this?" Blaise asked.

Draco nodded again, "Compeltely."

"Mate, you sound crazy. I know you have the money for it but…"

"Look, just owl the owner my information, alright?" Draco said. "We'll work something out. Now, I need to go pick up the other part."

"Other part? There's more?" Blaise asked incredulously.

"Yes," Draco responded. "Are you coming with me or not?"

Blaise followed his comrade out and down the busy streets. "So she just asked you for—"

"She didn't ask me for anything," Draco snapped. "She said she didn't want anything!"

"And this was the closest to nothing you could think of?" Blaise raised his eyebrows. "How long have you two been friends anyway?"

"A while," Draco replied. He walked into the shop. "Now help me, would you?"

Blaise shook his head. "Fine. Yes," he agreed, nudging Draco. "I'm not going to ask," he decided.

"Splendid," Draco smiled. "Now honestly, what here suits her?"

"How the hell should I know?" Blaise demanded.

Draco shrugged. He feared this was going to take a long while.

"How have you been, mate?" Blaise asked as they browsed. "Holding up alright?"

Draco paused and thought back to the night before. "Holding up fine," Draco told him. "You?"

"Fine," Blaise repeated. "Found myself a girl."

"Really?" Draco asked with little interest.

"Temporarily anyway," Blaise told him. "Her name's Merissa. You should meet her."

"How long is temporarily this time?"

"Keeping her around for my date to my ball," Blaise said.

"How soon is that again?"

"Next month," Blaise reminded. "I'm thinking actually on Halloween this time round."

Draco nodded as something caught his eye. "Hey, what about this?"

* * *

Hermione fixed her sweater and set out her trench coat. The weather outside was miserable, rainy and dark. It was giving her a headache and she had half a mind to cancel her date with Michael. Considering the fact that she had been refusing his offers for a couple of weeks now, she felt that would be very rude.

Michael said he'd be at her flat for seven. It was six fifty-six. Hermione began to fluff and plump the couch cushions, not knowing what else to do with her time. She cleaned the counter tops and organized the books on the coffee table before hearing the knock at the door.

She pulled the chain off and unlocked it, letting Michael in. "Hello," she smiled.

Michael didn't walk inside and Hermione didn't invite him to. She grabbed her white trench coat and slipped it on, tucking her wand into the pocket and shutting the door behind her.

"Hi," Michael returned.

"So…where are we going?"

"Where would you like to go?"

"Anywhere's fine."

Michael stood there. "Your choice."

Realizing Michael really hadn't any plans, Hermione relented and named the first place that came to mind. "A couple of blocks over there's an Italian restaurant."

"Sounds good. Let's go."

"Great," Hermione nodded.

They left the flat and walked the two blocks. Hermione wished they hadn't, there was barely anything to talk about. She pointed out places along the way that she liked going to. He asked her about work and such. Though the rain had stopped but the overall feeling of outside was still terrible. She would have rather apparated but she knew some people didn't like the feeling of it. She didn't want to sound like she was complaining either.

By the time they had reached the restaurant Hermione was glad to talk to the hostess.

Once they were seated the silence was unbearable. At least outside they had the background noise of people, cars, tires splashing through puddles. Inside the restaurant was quiet, with dimmed lighting and secluded booths.

Hermione didn't want to be there. Not because of Michael though; Michael was perfectly nice. But it seemed as though everything they could have talked about they had discussed on the way there. Between the two of them there was silence.

"So," she grimaced at how loud she sounded, "other than work, what have you been up to?

"Not much. I've been looking for a new flat," he told her.

"Really? How's that going?"

Michael pulled a hand through his dark hair. "Alright. I'm still debating between a couple of places. What have you been doing?"

Hermione's first thought was the night before with Draco. And the day before that with Draco. and how much time she really did spend with Draco.

But she couldn't tell Michael any of that. She had been telling him that she couldn't see him because she was so busy. She had been— been very busy that is. Although she seemed to have plenty of time for both Draco and Juliet, she had been busy.

She felt the slightest bit guilty. Then she felt even guiltier at the fact that she didn't truly feel _that_ guilty.

"A lot of work," she laughed.

He nodded and silence fell upon them once again.

* * *

**A/N: Alright there's chapter sixteen. Hope you liked it.**

**Please review, I'd really appreciate the constructive criticism. Point out any errors please. **

**Review if you're reading and you've got the time to!**

**Thanks.**

**Anyways,**

**Scarlett**


	17. Chapter 17

Hermione woke up on the nineteenth of September feeling…well she didn't feel different at all. She certainly thought of herself as being different though. She was twenty-four. Twenty. Four.

She went to work, clad in a fitted cream dress to her knees. "Good morning, Anna," she smiled.

"Good morning, Hermione," Anna replied. "Now, why didn't you tell any of us it's your birthday?"

Hermione paused as she approached her office and turned to stare at Anna. "How—how did you know?"

"Well you didn't tell me," Anna said. "Happy birthday."

"Thank you," Hermione nodded. Anna smiled at her. "What?" Hermione asked.

"Nothing," Anna told her innocently.

"Anna."

"Not a thing Hermione."

Hermione laughed and shook her head, walking into her office. "Oh my goodness!" She jumped back and, with her hand still on the doorknob, she slammed the door shut.

"Happy birthday!" Draco called through the shut door with a laugh. "Hermione?"

She took a deep breath and opened her office door again. "You scared the wits out of me," she said slowly.

He grinned, "I can tell."

"What are you doing here?" she demanded. "And get off of my desk, please."

Draco hopped off of her desk. "I wanted to be the first to wish you a happy birthday. I didn't take Anna into consideration."

"Well thank you," Hermione accepted.

He looked her up and down. "You look incredible."

Hermione bit her lip and looked down at herself. She had to admit, she may have dressed up a _bit_ for her own little anniversary. Draco smirked as he watched a blush spread across her cheeks.

"So what are the plans for today?" he asked.

"Work, lunch, work, home, dinner," she told him. "What about you?"

"Merlin, that's pitiful," he chuckled. He checked his watch. "My meeting's half over, but I'll meet you at the tilted place for one."

"You need to be fired," Hermione laughed. "The tilted place it is."

* * *

Hermione returned home after a wonderful day. Lunch with Draco was nice, as always. Work wasn't too busy. Harry, Ginny, Ron, George, Angelina, and Draco had all said they were going to be at her flat around five whether she liked it or not. Hermione had told Draco to invite Blaise as well— just so he'd have someone more familiar—and he'd said he would but there were no promises that Blaise would actually agree to be there.

Hermione's parents called to wish her a happy birthday just minutes after she got into her flat. She chatted with them for a while, thanked them for the card they had sent and the new sweater.

Walking with the phone cocked between her ear and shoulder, Hermione went into the kitchen and began to fix herself some cheese and crackers. "Yes, Mum," she said. "Mmhm. Work is fine."

Her mum sounded doubtful.

"No really, it's fine…Yes Harry and Ron are doing well…Yeah they're fine too.

Mum, I told you, you can visit whenever you'd like…Well I'm working tomorrow…" She laughed. "Yes, that's good. Hold on one minute." She switched the phone to her other ear and pulled her hair to the side as she bit into a cracker. She chewed as her mother talked.

"How's Dad's knee?" she asked. "…Good. Well make sure he's not eating too much—yes, I know. I'm just saying, the doctor warned him—okay. …Yes I remember her. Oh tell her I said hello then."

There was a knock at the door and Hermione jumped, dropping a cracker on the floor. She picked it up and tossed it into the rubbish. "Mum," she said. Her mother continued to talk. "Mum," she repeated. "Okay. Okay, I'll try and drop by sometime this week. …Yes, Mum. I have to go."

She headed towards the door as she tried to decipher her mother's rushed sentences. "Sure, I have to go though. Thanks for calling. See you soon. …Bye. Love you." She hung up the phone and looked through the peep hole.

Harry grinned at her. "Harry?" she asked teasingly.

"Happy Birthday Hermione!" Ginny called.

"Hello," Hermione said.

"Are you going to let us in?" Harry asked.

Hermione hummed, "I don't know."

"We have presents!" Ginny announced.

Though they couldn't see her, Hermione's face twisted a bit. "I don't know…" she said again. "Is James with you?"

"Yes, he is," Harry confirmed.

"Alright." Hermione opened the door. "Come on in."

The family strolled into her flat with smiles and warm greetings. Harry held up a large, white box, "Where do you want the cake?" he asked.

Hermione laughed. "That wasn't necessary," she told him.

Ginny ignored her comment and instructed Harry to place the box on the counter and her present by the sofa. Hermione took James from Ginny and sat on the carpet with him. James pulled himself up by the coffee table and began to toddle around, something he had recently learned to do. Hermione immediately started to move things out of his way, blocking all sharp corners and directing him to stay on the carpet.

He fell onto his bottom and Hermione helped him up until he was off on his own again.

"Where's everyone else?" Ginny asked.

"Ron said he'd be arriving a little late," Hermione told her. "Something about a meeting."

Harry came over and sat down on the loveseat with Ginny. "Well open our present while we wait," he urged.

Hermione pulled James into her lap and Harry handed her a neatly wrapped package and card. She opened the card first, briefly reading over the printed message and then going to the imperfect penmanship of her friends.

_Happy birthday Hermione! Hope it's wonderful. With love and best wishes—Harry_

She smiled at the short and sweet message. Harry returned her smile with a grin.

_Happy birthday Hermione! You really are family and I'm so glad to have you as a friend. You're like the sister I never had and we're all proud to call you our friend. Have a great birthday, Hermione. We love you. –Ginny and James_

Hermione hugged both of her friends and James. She moved to open the present but Ginny gave her funny look. "Wait. Where's the…?" the redhead looked at her husband questioningly and he gave her a sheepish smile.

"Right. I may have accidently wrapped that in the present," he admitted. "Sorry."

Hermione laughed and unwrapped the present, letting James play with the gold wrapping paper and white ribbon. Beneath the wrapping was a dark brown, wooden box. She opened that as well and smiled at the beautiful stationary set inside.

"Oh it's lovely!" she exclaimed. "Thank you."

"That's from Harry," Ginny said. "And…" she sorted through the wrapping paper and pulled out two slips of paper, shooting a quick look at Harry. "Here. This is from me."

Hermione looked at the paper. "A…spa?" she asked.

"Yeah," Ginny bounced excitedly. "We'll go together. It'll be a lot of fun." She looked at Hermione's smile, doubtful but trying not to be. "I promise," she said. "Don't judge until you go."

"Thank you Ginny," Hermione smiled, telling herself it really was the thought that counted.

Hermione left James with the wrapping paper and put her gifts away in her room. When she walked back into the living room, she was surprised to see Draco and Juliet along with the Potters. "Oh, you're here," she said.

"I am," Draco agreed.

Ginny watched the two with interest. There was just something about the smile he gave Hermione. A smile on a Malfoy's face was odd enough as it was. But there was something else there too. And the smile she gave him? Well, she was beginning to think her two month prediction wasn't going to be as accurate as she thought. "Two weeks," the redhead muttered.

* * *

Hermione closed her eyes and made her wish. Taking a deep breath, she blew out all of the candles.

"What'd you wish for?" Harry asked.

"If I tell you it won't come true," she said. She picked up the cake server and looked around, "I'm assuming everyone wants cake?"

Everyone nodded and Angelina stepped forward. "Here," she held out a hand for the server, "I'll handle this." Without waiting for an answer, the girl took the tool from Hermione's slack hand and began to cut the cake. After handing the first piece to Hermione, Angelina began to distribute the plates around the table.

"This is really good cake," Ron commented through a mouthful.

Hermione rolled her eyes and handed him a napkin.

"Thanks," Ron said loudly.

"Oi," Blaise yelled in a whisper, "pipe down Weasley. The kid's trying to sleep." The former Slytherin held Juliet in his arms carefully.

"Shut your mouth Ronnikins," George cooed.

Blaise looked at the little girl in his arms, not quite sure if he was holding her right and not quite sure it mattered. Despite the indifference they all showed, Blaise had wondered how his friend was doing.

Draco was glad Blaise had decided to show up. Sure, he had agreed to be civil with all of Hermione's friends, but it was still difficult to make polite conversation whilst trying to hold back insults. At least with Blaise there he wasn't on his own.

Like Draco, Blaise had pushed himself past his previous prejudices for the most part. After being on the wrong side of a war he didn't really have a choice. It was either that or be shunned from the rest of the wizarding world.

Hermione handed Blaise a plate of cake as well and he thanked her.

Outside already looked like night and it was starting to get late. Several hours had passed by quickly in the company of Hermione's friends. She was proud of both the former Slytherins she had there and the former Gryffindors for keeping their tongues in check around each other.

Plate in hand, Hermione went to sit with Blaise and Draco on the sofa. She bumped her knee against Draco's and he turned to look at her. "How're you two holding up?" she asked teasingly.

"Could be better, could be worse," Draco told her.

She laughed despite the lack of humour heard in his voice. He stared at her and she swiped a bit of icing from her cake, and streaked it down his nose.

Blaise watched in shock as his friend just let the barmy brunette play out her antics.

Hermione licked the remaining icing from her finger and smiled warmly at Draco. He chuckled and wiped the sugar off his nose.

Blaise checked his watch. "I better go," he said. "Happy birthday Granger."

"Thanks for coming Blaise," she grinned. "I'll see you again soon then, right?"

The man raised an eyebrow at her.

"Oh come on," she said. "You're at my…practically birthday party. We could get along."

The grin she shot up at him as he handed Juliet back to Draco made him understand. He wasn't soft. Like any other Slytherin he was _far_ from soft. But that smile had him nodding, "I guess we could Granger. Happy birthday. 'Bye."

"Hermione, do you mind if I get James cleaned up?" Ginny asked. "It's getting late and by the time we get home he's going to be asleep."

"Yeah, definitely," Hermione told her. "Do you need me to get anything for you?"

"No, that's fine. Stay where you are," Ginny dismissed. "Harry, get the diaper bag."

"Be right there."

The family disappeared into the loo as Angelina and George wished Hermione a happy birthday and said their goodbyes.

Ron sat at the counter, eating cake and making a mess. Hermione finished her own cake and put her plate on the coffee table. "Is there anything I can get either of you?" she offered.

Draco shook his head and Ron spat cake crumbs as he requested a glass of milk. Hermione gathered the plates left on the table and went to get Ron's glass of milk. She slid it across the counter to redhead and took his empty plate as well. He had had enough cake by Hermione's measures.

Ron frowned but didn't dare protest. Draco chuckled as the perturbed Weasley chose to instead drink his milk and wipe the icing from his mouth.

Hermione tied her hair in a bun, tucking the loose tendrils make messily, as she soaked the plates in warm water before getting them sudsy. "Oh," Ron said, "I forgot to ask you. Dad was wondering if you had any…um, _divids_ he could look at?"

"_Divids_?" Hermione paused thoughtfully to try and figure out just what he was asking about. "DVDs, maybe?"

"Yeah. Yeah that's what Dad wanted. You got any?"

"I'll send him one tomorrow," Hermione agreed.

"Great."

"Hermione," Draco called flatly, "she woke up. She's about to start—" he was abruptly cut off by Juliet's short whimpers that immediately became wails. "Crying," he finished.

Ron went over and kissed Hermione's cheek as she continued to wash the desert plates. "I'm going to go. Happy birthday Hermione."

"Thank you, Ron," Hermione turned to give him a smile. "And thank you for the book as well."

"I knew you'd like it," Ron grinned.

"I do like books," she agreed. "Thanks for coming." Juliet cried louder and Hermione rinsed the plates off quickly. Ron looked panicked at the noise and began to rush out his goodbye.

"See you Sunday," he told her, leaving her flat.

"A little help," Draco suggested.

Hermione finished the plates and wiped her hands dry. Going over to the couch, she took Juliet from Draco and sat down, rocking the girl in her arms. "Would you sing for her Draco?" Hermione asked.

"No."

"But it might quiet her down. You know how she gets."

Juliet continued to cry and Draco glowered. "Potter and Weasle—Ginny," he forced, "are still in there."

"Aw, you're afraid they'll hear you singing?" she teased.

"We won't laugh Malfoy!" Ginny called. "Swear to Merlin!"

Draco turned his scowl from the bathroom door to Hermione.

Harry came out of the bathroom, laughing, his shirt splattered with water. Ginny followed him, completely dry with a newly cleaned James in her arms. "Thanks Hermione. We should probably head home now too. James is out."

"Okay." She handed the crying Juliet to Draco so she could let the Potters out. "For heaven's sakes then, hum or something," she hissed.

Draco shot her a look and took the baby from her.

"Thanks for everything," Hermione told them.

"Happy birthday," they wished her.

Hermione hugged them both and Harry kissed her cheek. "Bye, Hermione."

Once the door had shut behind the family Draco did as Hermione said and hummed lowly to the wailing girl. A melody that had played itself out in his mind all day rumbled from his chest. Juliet cried for only a moment longer before calming.

"Thank Merlin," Draco sighed. The baby girl closed her eyes and Draco let the relief wash over him as he laid her on the sofa and guarded her with throw pillows. He pulled out his wand and _accio_-ed a flat, square box wrapped in dark green paper. Very Slytherin.

"Happy birthday." He spun it through the air to her like a disc and it sailed past Hermione to land on the counter-top.

Hermione tilted her in question and took the gift off the counter. "What is this?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Couldn't tell you. But I have a sneaking suspicious that by taking off the wrappings and such…you could find out."

Hermione pursed her lips at him, the laughter clear in her eyes. She picked up the present peeled back the wrappings to reveal a silver box. She pulled open the box and stared at the necklace inside.

She gasped. "Oh my…Merlin." She looked at Draco. "I can't accept this. It's—it's beautiful, but I can't accept it."

"Why the hell not?" he demanded.

"Draco, it looks really expensive…" she trailed off, biting her lip.

"Maybe by others standards it was," he told her. "But—"

"For you it was barely anything?" she guessed.

"Precisely," he agreed.

"Well a lot is a lot in any case," she told him.

"Hermione, it's your birthday."

"And?"

"Be spoiled."

"Spoiled people are sour." She wrinkled her nose and shook her head. "Trust me, I know a few people." She laughed as he glared.

"Hermione."

"Draco."

"Did your parents never tell you that it's rude to refuse a gift?" he asked. At her look he sighed. "Would just learn to be gracious receiver and accept the damn present?"

She walked over and put the box on the coffee table, crossing her arms and staring down at him. She bit her lower lip, thinking it over carefully. She sat down on the coffee table to be at eye level with him.

He did have an obscene amount of money. And he didn't even work for it. Well, he worked, but not for the piles and piles of gold he had growing at Gringotts. No, Draco Malfoy worked for amusement. He worked purely for the purpose to have something to do.

She frowned. Then again, no matter what there'd be a better use for the money. And there was no debate over the fact that it cost a large amount of gold. It was ridiculous.

"You know what? Fine." Draco picked up the box. "Last time I actually put thought into a fricking present," he muttered. "Women."

"Wait," she said. She lowered his hand and put the box back on the coffee table. "What do you mean 'put thought into a present'?"

"I picked it out," he explained irritably. "It looked like something you'd like."

"I—I do like it," she insisted. "But…well…"

"Then take it," he snapped. "What's the damage to me?"

"Okay," she nodded. "Thank you. It's lovely.

"Welcome," he said. "You can wear it to Zabini's ball next month."

"Ball?"

"Yeah, on Halloween."

"Am I invited?" she asked.

"Well," he shrugged, "it seems to me you're pretty good at convincing Blaise of things. And if he won't invite you it doesn't matter; I'm inviting you. You'll be my guest."

"A ball," she considered. "Sounds like fun. Sure."

"Brilliant."

Hermione pulled the necklace from the box and, though she was wearing much too casual clothes for the extravagant piece, lifted her bun off the nape of her neck with the request for Draco to help her.

He obliged and stood from the couch, leaning down to take the jewelry from her and bring it around her neck. He pulled on a curl that had slipped down and watched it spring back up. Deftly, his finger worked and snapped the clasp into place.

"Well?" she asked.

He stood straight again and smirked, impressed. "I have good taste."

She laughed and he smiled at the sound.

Hermione looked at Juliet and chuckled slightly at her small, opened mouth and pink cheeks. "Aw, she's out. You should get her home."

Draco nodded. "You're right. Happy birthday."

She stood on her toes and kissed his cheek. "Thank you. And the present is truly amazing."

His lips pressed a returning kiss against her cheek as well, lingering only a moment. "See you tomorrow."

"Of course."

* * *

Draco gave in to his grin as he walked through the Malfoy Manor foyer.

He went upstairs and tucked Juliet in, setting her comfortably in her in crib. He went into his own bedroom and got himself ready before heading back downstairs to living room, looking for the potions book he had been going over the week before. He was still curious about the ingredients in the odd draught he had briefly read over.

As he headed towards the living room he doubled back, realizing something was off. Then he saw the two figures wandering down the corridor. He drew his wand quickly. "What are you doing here?"

"Draco, nice to see you again."

"Malfoy, lower your wand. Is that any way to treat guests?"

"Get. Out."

* * *

**A/N: Well there it is. Thank you to everyone who reviewed last chapter. You are all amazing and I'm so sorry I didn't get a chance to reply to a lot of them. Terribly busy lately. **

**Thanks for reading! Please review.**

**Anyways,**

**Scarlett**


	18. Chapter 18

"What do you want?"

"We merely would like to speak with you, Draco," Dirana said, smoothing her heavy black skirts.

"No." Draco's wand remained poised to stun both of them, either of them, or do worse.

"Boy," Bervex snapped, looking down his thick, crooked nose at Draco, "let's sit down and discuss this as adults. Lower your wand."

Draco stared the older man down. Bervex had to tilt his head back to look down at Draco, being a few inches shorter than the younger man; his condescending look was an effort. Draco noticed this and took satisfaction in it. The couple's superiority complexes were meant to intimidate people, but it hardly worked on a pureblood like Draco, brought up to have a superiority complex of his own.

He ignored Bervex's order and kept his wand levelled as he repeated, "Adults?" Biting remarks sat on the tip of his tongue, begging to be spat out acidly. He refrained from any harsh and rash words and instead chose a shake of his head and a threatening step forward. "You're wasting my time," he said. "Leave."

Dirana pulled her cloak tight around her shoulders. She eyed him coolly but her anger was shown through the many creases in her aging skin. She and Pansy had the same nose, pug-like and scrunched, but it seemed to look worse on the older woman what with her wide forehead and tightly pulled back hair. Looking at her made Draco glad that his daughter had gotten her features from the better looking side of her heritage.

"We're only here to see our granddaughter Draco," Dirana told him.

"She's not here." A lie so smooth it slid from his lips.

"Where is she?" Bervex demanded angrily.

"As though you care," Draco said. He slowly lowered his arm. "Leave," he ordered once again.

"We have a right to see her," Dirana insisted. "She's our granddaughter."

"You have no right." Draco wanted to leave the cold space of the foyer but was far from offering to invite them farther into the manor. "She is my daughter. Now get out."

"She was our only daughter," Dirana said, of course it wasn't nearly as solemn-sounding as it should have been. The way the woman spoke was merely factual and flat; void of emotion. "And _she_ is our only granddaughter," Dirana said and there was a crack in her cool demeanor that sounded pleading.

Draco thought about Pansy, the Parkinson's only daughter, only child. She _was_ their only daughter now. "She isn't your granddaughter," Draco said finally. "You made that clear when _your_ daughter was pregnant with her. You disowned her when all she wanted was your support. I guess that means you have no granddaughter."

Bervex looked furious while Dirana's face fell in such a way that Draco nearly gave in in sympathy. He held his resolve though and waited with a set glare for one of them to say something. When neither of them spoke he decided he would get his last word and that would be the end of it.

"If that's all cleared up," Draco drawled, "I bid you goodbye. I'm sure you know your way out."

"Malfoy, surely—" Bervex started.

"Don't bring yourself to begging," Draco said mockingly, "it's not becoming of a..."

"Pureblood," Bervex said angrily. His voice took on a sudden change. "Although I don't suppose you'd know anymore. We've heard you've become something of a bloodtraitor, haven't you?"

"What's a bloodtraitor, Bervex?" Draco asked sardonically. "The war is over. The prejudices? A little outdated."

"Bloodtraitor," Dirana scoffed at him. "That mudblood Granger, isn't it? Tsk, tsk, Malfoy, what a pity."

"Pity what?" he snapped. "Your sorry arses? You all act confident and superior but here you are, grovelling and begging."

"Just like you," Dirana told him.

Bervex stared the younger man down. "Isn't that what we all do Draco? You tell yourself what you want, bloodtraitor or not, you were born a pureblood and you're just like us." He said it smugly; his uncaring eyes staring at everything as it was, nothing deeper, never deeper.

"Not anymore," Draco said. "Now get out."

* * *

Hermione woke up after good night's rest. It was lovely. The night before Harry and Ginny's wedding she had barely slept a wink, Ginny and her staying up into early the next morning finishing preparations and getting overly excited about everything. Of course, Luna Lovegood wasn't really like Ginny Potter, not much anyway.

In fact, Luna Lovegood wasn't really _like_ anyone—except maybe her father. She was a completely different character.

The wedding was being held outdoors at the edge of wide meadow out in the middle of nowhere, and then there were going back to The Burrow for the reception. It was a small wedding, less than eighty people.

Luna had asked for Hermione and Ginny to be at the Lovegood's house for ten-thirty, dressed and ready, so they could help her with the last touches and her own dress before apparating together. It was nine-thirty now and Hermione, always finding it better to be early rather than late, decided she ought to start getting ready.

She showered and, loving that she had her own flat, ate a breakfast of fresh fruit and sweet yogurt in only her bathrobe, her hair twisted up in a towel on her head. Once finished, she went into her room and put on her underwear before getting started on her makeup and hair.

She applied some light blush and mascara and then swiped on lip balm. She pulled her hair to one side and tied in in a large, neat bun, leaving two curling tendrils of hair to frame her face. She pulled one of the small, white flowers from the bouquet Angelina had given her on her birthday. She had kept the flowers alive for ten days now and she figured if they were going to die soon then she'd make use of at least one. She tucked it into her bun and smiled at her reflection before putting on her yellow dress.

She fit her wand into her clutch and then checked the time. It was just ten minutes after ten.

She left for Luna's early.

* * *

"Oh my goodness!" Ginny exclaimed. "Luna, you look gorgeous!"

"Thank you." Luna smiled. Her dress was long, really long, and a pale, pale yellow that almost looked white. It had six tiers to it that ruffled to make the skirt come out wider and wider, beautifully.

"Really," Hermione said, "Luna, you do look amazing."

Luna smiled and hugged both girls; they were careful not to ruin her perfectly styled long hair. And then they each grabbed their colourful bouquets and got ready to apparate.

* * *

The meadow was beautiful. The grass was lush and green with purple and white flowers sprouting up in a scattered manner. The trees grew tall around the area and there were white chairs draped with yellow satin tied in big bows that were arranged into a row facing the gazebo that Luna and Rolf would get married in.

The girls surveyed everything and deemed it perfect before the boys began to apparate in and gather around.

"Looking sharp," Hermione complimented, nodding at Harry, James and Ron in their grey tuxedos. Even James was wearing a little suit, minus the tie though.

"And you," Harry kissed Hermione on the cheek, "look beautiful." Ron hugged Hermione and gave her the same sentiments as Harry made his way over to his wife. The rest of the Weasleys arrived shortly after and Hermione was still looking around the wide expanse for a certain platinum blonde man.

Luna had been more than kind when she found out about how close Hermione and Draco had become, despite the teasing she had experienced back at Hogwarts for her…odd tendencies. She had given Draco an impromptu invitation to her wedding through Hermione and surprisingly enough Draco had agreed to attend.

Of course, at the moment, he wasn't there.

Hermione sat down next to George and Angelina, surrounded by a few of Rolf's relatives, as everyone wandered about and mingled while waiting for the wizard minister.

Rolf had shown up along with his parents and Luna's father, wearing a pale blue suit and white shoes. He and Luna were talking with guests and Rolf was pointing into the trees at the odd creatures that would harmlessly scamper by. Hermione couldn't help but smile at how suited they were for each other.

She continued to scan the small crowd for the Draco, but there was no sign of him. She sighed. Maybe something had come up. Or he decided that being at the wedding wasn't a good idea. Or maybe he forgot about it or was just running late.

Angelina leaned across George to address Hermione. "Are you waiting for someone?" she asked.

Hermione shook her head quickly. "No."

"Oh," Angelina said. "It looked like you were searching for someone."

"Well, actually, Draco was supposed to be here," Hermione explained. She finally spotted him roaming about Rolf's relatives to the left of the chairs. He was nodding at whatever the older woman was saying. A small smile slipped onto Hermione's expression. Draco looked impeccable. He wore a black tuxedo and a fairly thin, black tie.

Angelina seemed to see him as well as she waved him over. He smiled and headed straight for Hermione.

"Where's Lettie?" George asked as soon as Draco stood in front of them.

"Lettie?" Draco repeated.

"The baby," George said. At Draco's blank look George turned to Hermione. "You barely have enough patience to deal with my brother, but you can deal with this bloke?" He shook his head sadly and turned back to the blonde. "_Your_ baby."

"Her name's Juliet," Draco said flatly.

Hermione laughed. "They try and nickname everyone. For heaven sakes, every once in a while they all still call me Mione."

"Well Juliet's at the manor with Estelle," Draco explained, "her nanny."

George rolled his eyes and Hermione pretended not to notice.

Angelina moved down a seat, seeing as Hermione was between George and Luna's great aunt. She nudged George to move down as well so that Draco could sit next to Hermione. George wouldn't budge. "George," Angelina hissed, "move, let Draco sit."

George nodded at the seat between him and his girlfriend. "There's an empty seat right there." He gestured to it. "Take a seat, Malfoy."

Hermione rolled her eyes as Angelina shot George a sharp look. Draco was still standing.

Hermione noticed the wizard minister arrive and she stood. "It's alright," she sighed good-naturedly. "I have to go up anyway, they're about to start the ceremony."

Draco glanced at George and Angelina warily, and then noticed Harry, Charlie and Ron taking their seats in the row as well. He put on a passably pleasant expression.

Hermione hugged him and talked quickly. "I'll see you back at the Burrow then."

He kissed her cheek, surprising her a little. "You look lovely, by the way," he told her, his lips right by her ear.

She blushed a bit. "And you dashing," she returned, and then headed away to the gazebo.

Luna had decided not to walk down the aisle, and everyone had already gotten a good look at her anyway. Instead the wedding party stood with the men to the far right of the gazebo and the women to the far left, the minister waiting for them all in the middle.

Luna led Hermione, Ginny, and Rolf's young cousin to the minister and Rolf led his groomsmen.

The ceremony was short, and sweet. The couple had written their own vows, and though it was hard for others to understand just what they were trying to tell each other, everyone could see that they were in love. Xenophilius cried alongside a large picture of Luna's mother, tears of happiness.

Luna and Rolf shared a loving kiss to close the ceremony before being pronounced husband and wife. The smile on Luna's face was so wide and happy as she was handed back her bouquet from Ginny and her and Rolf had people crowding around to congratulate them.

Mrs. Weasley jumped up to address everyone. "Alright!" she called. "Everyone back to the Burrow for lunch and cake!"

Slowly the crowd dwindled as everyone began to disapparate and all of the Weasleys left to go help their mother host.

Hermione helped vanish the chairs and decorations before disapparting herself. The house was fairly empty when she got there; everybody was outside, taking advantage of what was probably going to be their last few days of good weather. She saw George, Ron, Charlie, and Harry all grabbing dishes off the counter and heading outside so she followed suit and grabbed the large salad bowl.

Outside, people sat at large, round tables. Place settings were in front of them and they helped themselves to the food that was put in the center of each table. It was very relaxed for a wedding. The now Mr. and Mrs. Scamander were sitting at a table with their close friends, enjoying a good meal and good company.

Luna was sitting next to Ginny, Harry and James, Rolf on her other side. James was fast asleep on Harry's lap, despite some of the louder conversations going on around him. That little boy could sleep through anything. Around them were Ron, two of Rolf's friends, Lavender, Padma, Parvati, and shockingly enough, Draco.

Hermione put the salad bowl down on the nearest table without one and then went over to the table. She was pretty sure Lavender and the Patil twins hadn't been at the ceremony. She tapped Lavender and Padma's shoulders.

"Ye—oh my goodness!" Padma exclaimed. "Hermione! Wow! You look incredible!"

"Thank you." Hermione smiled and embraced the three girls. "I haven't seen you all in so long. Were you all at the ceremony?"

They sighed in unison. "No," Lavender said. "We _missed _it. Parvati read the invitation wrong and sent _me_ the wrong invitation."

Parvati huffed. "We're here now, aren't we? And Luna, you don't mind that terribly, do you?"

Luna smiled. "I don't think I could truly mind anything today."

"See?" Parvati said.

Hermione laughed and took the empty chair between Draco and Rolf's friend. Draco shot her a relieved look and she reached over and squeezed his hand, giving him a smile. She began to help herself to salad and roast chicken not noticing the looks she was getting from the other girls as their gazes flicked from Hermione to Draco and back.

Ginny turned to Lavender and the twins with a knowing look.

"So," Parvati said, "Hermione, what made you…befriend Draco?"

Draco ran a hand over his hair. While waiting for Hermione to arrive he had reintroduced himself to the three girls he remembered from Hogwarts, hoping they didn't remember him too well. Of course, no such luck, he was very memorable person. He supposed he'd have to prove himself to be a decent person to these girls as well after explaining that he was there because he was now a friend of Hermione's.

They all questioned him of course, and everyone was on edge until Harry broke the tension by talking to Rolf's friend, Martin, amicably brought Draco into the conversation. Draco was almost grateful towards him, almost. He was a little reluctant to admit that he actually uncomfortable with Lavender, Parvati, and Padma staring him down.

Hermione bit her lip and looked at Draco. "Um…ministry work."

"That's vague," Lavender pointed out.

Hermione shrugged and ate her salad contently. The rest of them began to ask Luna and Rolf about honeymoon plans. She was only half-listening, nodding along and such and laughing with everyone else.

Draco took a bite of his roast chicken and his eyes widened. "This is amazing," he said, mostly to himself.

Hermione smiled and nodded as she took a bite of her own chicken. "I know," she said. "Mrs. Weasley…she work magic."

Harry pointed his fork at Draco. "Tell her those same words later and she'll love you forever."

Draco shook his head. "I wonder if my house elves could even make this. It's delicious."

"House elves?" Ginny repeated. She raised her eyebrows in Hermione's direction and Hermione's fork froze halfway to her mouth. "Malfoy, I should have figured you'd have house elves."

Ron looked at Hermione, too; even Harry was staring at Hermione curiously, wondering what her reaction would be, or if she'd even have a reaction.

It took Draco a minute before he clued in to just what they were waiting for and why they were staring. "Yeah," he said. "Not that it's any of your—"

Ron spoke up. "Hermione, you're okay with his house elves?"

"Free elves," Hermione told them, a slight edge to her voice. "Working by choice. Can leave whenever they'd like." She took a deep breath, telling herself to calm the heck down, it wasn't a big deal. She was a little annoyed anyway though, that her friends were questioning that way, as though they wanted her to be upset with Draco.

She turned to the person on her other side, Rolf's friend, and asked him to pass the butter for her potatoes. He handed it to her with a smile and then introduced himself. "I'm Ethan."

"Hermione," she returned.

"So…" Ethan took a sip of his champagne, "how do you know Luna?"

"School," Hermione said. "We met at Hogwarts. How do you know Rolf?"

"Distant cousins, but practically only cousins," Ethan explained.

Hermione was a little surprised. Ethan was wearing a navy blue suit and had dark hair, dark eyes. He didn't seem like Rolf at all. Rolf was great, albeit a little eccentric; Ethan didn't come off as being eccentric at all.

"Wow," Hermione considered. "So you know him well then? He and Luna seem as though they were…destined."

"They do," Ethan agreed. "But, no, I don't know him that well. In fact, up until yesterday I hadn't seen him in two or three years."

"Oh," Hermione said. "That's too bad. So, what do you do?"

Draco was listening to Hermione's conversation with Ethan. His grip tightened on his knife as he cut into his chicken. Suddenly it didn't taste as good. He heard Hermione laugh at something Ethan said and he glared down at his plate.

He wasn't sure what was wrong with him anymore.

"Malfoy, what do you do now?" Lavender asked.

"Ministry," he answered distractedly. "Accidental Magic Reversal and Muggle-Worthy Excuse."

"What's that like?" Padma asked politely.

"Boring," Draco replied. He didn't mean to be rude, but he did wish they'd just shut up and let him be. He knew they were trying to be civil in talking to him but their questions were making it hard to hear what Hermione was saying to Ethan.

Draco finished his meal and pushed his plate forward a bit. He shot an annoyed glance towards Ethan and Hermione with the amount of attention she was showing him.

Rolf and Luna excused themselves from the table for their first dance, as everyone finished lunch and the band began to play louder.

Everyone watched as they stood in the center of all of the tables. It wasn't a traditional first dance. Like the couple themselves it was a little odd. But the two of them looked unbelievably happy, looking into each other's eyes and smiling all the while.

Ginny turned to Harry. "Dance with me?" she asked. Harry looked at James, still asleep on his lap.

"I don't know," he said. "Can I James?"

Ron reached over and took the baby from Harry. "I've got him. Go ahead."

Harry stood up and led Ginny to the center of all of the tables as well, near the band.

Draco drank his champagne tiredly. There was this twisting feeling in the center of his chest as he watched Hermione smile at the couples dancing, and then again engage in conversation with Ethan. And then Ethan was looking at Hermione with this stupid smile and Draco swore he hated him.

Draco put a hand on Hermione's shoulder, interrupting her mid-sentence. "Will you dance with me, Hermione?"

He stood up and took her hand before she could give him an answer. She tripped her way out of her seat as he pulled her to where everyone was dancing. Lacing his fingers with hers, he put her other hand on his shoulder, his hand resting on her waist.

"That was rude," she said. "In the middle of a conversation and you just pull me away."

Draco shrugged and pulled her a little closer. "Eddie couldn't have been saying anything that interesting anyway."

"_Ethan_," Hermione corrected. "And how would you know, you weren't talking to him. The poor man barely knows anyone at the table."

"Whose fault is that?" he asked.

"Draco," Hermione admonished.

"Yes?" Draco said. "Did you realize he was _blatantly _flirting with you? Comes off a little desperate, yeah?"

Hermione laughed even though she knew it shouldn't have been funny. "He was not. Why're you being this way?"

He ignored her question. "Are you dating Michael Gardner?" he asked.

"Well…" Hermione gave him a strange look. She remembered the last time Michael came up between them. "We've only gone out a couple of times," she said.

"That's not an answer to what I asked," he said.

"What does it matter?" Hermione questioned.

"Nothing," he told her, straight-faced.

"Alright, then." Hermione stayed quiet as they danced, struggling slightly to follow his lead. He noticed this and subtly simplified his steps and slowed a bit.

"Well?" he prodded.

"Yes?" Hermione returned.

"Answer the question," he demanded.

"But it doesn't matter," Hermione said. She moved even closer to Draco, only a couple inches between them, her hand moving behind his neck. His arm instinctively moved around her waist.

"Damn it Granger, answer the question," he growled.

"We're back to Granger?" she asked.

He swallowed hard as his jaw set in aggravation. "Michael Gardner." he said. "Are you _with_ him?"

"My answer," Hermione mimicked. "Why does it matter?"

"You're making this difficult," Draco grumbled.

"You're not getting my answer until I have yours," she told him.

Draco closed his eyes and sighed. The band's music slowed and he pulled Hermione against his chest and let their laced fingers fall so both of his arms wound around her waist and her arms looped around his neck. He bent his head to kiss the spot right under her ear.

Hermione gasped at the contact and tilted her head to look at him. She couldn't catch his eye, seeing as he was more than a couple of inches taller and he was staring over her shoulder.

Hermione leaned her head against his chest. She could hear the faint, faint sound of his heartbeat as all the other noise was blocked out.

"It matters," Draco whispered, "because whatever you say affects what I say in return."

"If I say yes?" she asked.

"Then I suggest that you break up with him," Draco told her. "You don't like him anyway."

"Who says I don't?" Hermione questioned. "Michael's a great bloke. He's sweet and…nice."

"Are those the only two qualities you look for in a guy, Hermione?" When she didn't respond he continued. "Have you noticed that the letters from him on your coffee table keep piling up without answer, Hermione?" He paused. "Oh that's right. You've been busy."

"I have," she told him.

"Liar."

"What do you know?" she teased, suddenly feeling strange in being so incredibly close to him.

"I've been with you this entire week," Draco stated. "You haven't been busy."

She looked up at him and for a split second she managed to make eye contact before he looked away. When he looked back his eyes locked her lips and he couldn't stop staring, wanting to kiss her so badly. "Who do you think I was busy with?" she asked softly.

Draco snapped out of his trance and almost sounded angry as he spoke. "I didn't ask you to—"

Hermione was surprised at his tone. She hadn't meant it that way. Instead of fixing it she snapped back. "Of course you didn't. You're too confident and conceited for that." Hermione shook her head. Something wasn't right.

Draco had to admit, the way she said it, it hurt. He hadn't told her about his visit from the Parkinson's the week before. He didn't see it as important, he had dealt with it, and he saw it as taken care of. He kept it to himself.

So of course, Hermione had no idea what she was really saying to him. She said one thing but it seemed as though he'd heard another as he pushed her out a bit, gently, so they were distanced from each other. But it didn't matter how gently he pushed her away. The fact that he was pushing her away was enough.

"Draco," she said. A hurt expression was clear across her features now. "I'm around you because we're friends. Because I _like_ being around you. You and Juliet."

The song ended and Draco let go of her. She glanced back at their table, majority of the chairs empty as they instead occupied the dance area. "Draco, what's going on?" she asked. No answer. "What if I said no?"

"Forget it," he told her. "Do you want to go inside?"

* * *

**A/N: Hello, readers, if you're still with me here I'd like to say that I'm really sorry for going AWOL on all of you for...a while. But I'm back. Writer's block cured and all. Although if you have any ideas for this story I am open to them at the moment.**

**If you're still reading let me know, please review. The support is much needed.**

**Thanks for reading!**

**Anyways,**

**Scarlett**


	19. Chapter 19

Hermione trailed behind Draco into the house, staring at his back as if he was foreign to her. Strange and unfamiliar in a way he only was to her nearly five months ago. She was so confused, another unfamiliar thing for Hermione Granger. Getting into quick disagreements with each other was practically routine for Draco and Hermione but this was different.

Usually it was Hermione who first expressed her issue with something Draco was doing. But this time, she was pretty sure, Draco was the one who had been upset about something. Of course, she had no idea just what it was that he was upset about and that made it many times worse.

The house was empty, everyone having a good time outside, so it was just Draco and Hermione.

Draco pulled at his tie, loosening it only to fix the lowered knot to lie neatly. If there was one thing his mother had instilled in him it was how appearances mattered. Nobody respects sloppy. But, despite his immaculate and cool exterior, Draco didn't feel put together; he felt as though his heart was trying to pound its way out of his chest.

He had never had to fear rejection. Ever. Back at school he had had all of the Slytherin girls after him, he had thought it a little pathetic really—the way they tripped over themselves to cater to his every whim—and they were the only girls he dated. Well, the only girls he dated save for one Ravenclaw and a couple of girls from pureblood social parties he hadn't really _dated_ per se, but been with for a couple of days to about a week. Rejection had never been a worry for Draco. In fact, aside from the terrible times during the war, nothing had ever really been a worry for Draco.

Or really, nothing had been a worry up until these past few months. Even when Pansy had gotten pregnant, everything was okay for the most part. Sure, her parents had disowned her, but he had enough money to carry the both of them, a child, and a small village probably. And of course, a child had never really been in his plans, especially one with Pansy, but it wasn't as if he had been planning to spend his life with anyone else, so why not marry her? If he was going to be stuck with someone, he had figured it might as well have been one of his best friends. He wasn't going to be alone in any of it. Things would've been fine. There'd been no doubt about it.

And then Juliet was born and Pansy was gone and things weren't so simple anymore. Draco had something to worry about. But, in typical heroic fashion, Hermione came along. She helped him with his worries; she was getting him through everything.

However now, in a way, she _was_ his worry.

He'd never felt so inadequate at anything. She was kind and innocent and forgiving. Everything that he had long ago deemed preposterous and, to be honest, too difficult she made look easy. He didn't think he deserved her really, and though somewhere in his mind he _knew_ she didn't think the same, there was a constant fear of what he saw as reasonable rejection that kept him from uttering the few words to tell her how he felt.

Hermione sat down next to Draco on one of the mismatched couches in the living room.

She eyed him carefully, thoughts buzzing with a million ways to ask him just what was going on. She took a deep, calming breath and settled herself about a foot and a half distance from him. Draco thought this too far but he resisted the urge to do anything about it. He stayed where he was and leaned back into the shabby couch, finding it extremely comfortable despite its appearance. "So," he started.

Hermione quickly cut him off. "Have I upset you?" she asked, the question soft yet containing a demanding edge as well.

"No," he said quickly. "Why?"

She placed a hand to her forehead, the pads of two slender fingers and her thumb pressing into her temples. She looked at him. "Do you realize how bipolar you sound right now?" He didn't respond so she continued on. "A minute ago you were firing off question after question and were all upset," she said. "And now—"

"I wasn't upset," he denied.

"Oh, really," she said tiredly. "I can read you like a book, you know that?"

Draco gave her a look that she didn't see since she had her eyes closed as she shook her head, silently saying that clearly she couldn't if she thought he was simply mad at her. He wasn't. Good heavens, he wasn't. He was mad _about_ her if that was anyway to put it.

He turned towards her suddenly and gave her a long look until she stared right back at him. "What am I thinking then?" he challenged.

Hermione laughed, forgetting that she was supposed to be getting a serious answer out of him. She stared into his grey eyes with a small smirk of a smile playing on her lips. "You're thinking that...that I don't know what I'm talking about," she said.

Wrong. He chuckled and shrugged. "You got me."

She rolled her eyes. "Hey," she said suddenly, "you want to go see something awesome?"

Draco was pretty sure he would have gone with her anywhere. He agreed easily, "Sure."

"Wonderful." She grinned, taking his hand. "Come on." She dragged him out the front door of the Burrow and down the path a little ways before apparating them into the forest.

She squeezed his hand and shot him a bright and happy smile.

He looked around. "What the hell are we doing in the forest?" he asked.

"Come. On." She separated each word with a forceful tug on his hand to pull him forward and through the forest, passing the tall, towering trees and ducking under low branches.

She had him walking alongside her, laughing and steadying her as she tripped over fallen timber and dips in the earth in her heels, for a good eight minutes before she stopped and took in their surroundings. Hermione's arm was hooked through Draco's as her eyes narrowed in thought.

He waited patiently as she stared up at the trees in wonder. "Alright," she said.

"Hermione," Draco began, "we're still in the middle of the damn forest. What are we doing here?"

"Shh," she shushed. "Left. Let's try that way." Draco followed closely behind her as she followed her own directions.

And then, once again, she stopped. They were standing in front of a large tree with winding limbs that spread right from its base. Hermione looked amazed while Draco merely looked at the tree in question. "A tree," he stated. "This is the awe-inspiring thing?"

She pushed his arm. "Learn to appreciate beauty, Draco," she said.

"I appreciate beauty," he protested. "I appreciate you, don't I?"

She blushed and rolled her eyes with a smile. "Stop that," she ordered. "Now, it's not nearly as nice from here as it is in _there._"

"Hm?"

She climbed into the base of the tree, her heel immediately getting wedged in one of the small spaces of where the tree split into five different trunks. The tree was huge, and the thick limbs that branched out of the bottom curved perfectly to lean back on. Hermione fully intended to do just that once she got her foot unstuck.

She frowned and sighed impatiently as she tried to yank her shoe and foot out of the tight space. Finally she just leaned down and undid the strap on the heel and slipped the shoe off. She repeated the actions with her other shoe and tossed it out of the tree. "Darn," she said. "Those were my only heels." She bit her bottom lip and stared at the stuck shoe. She could see that the heel was already cracked, so she wouldn't be able to wear it even if she managed to remove it. "Well. They were killing my feet anyway."

Draco found her insouciance towards the situation attractive. Every other girl he knew would have been devastated if her heels broke, but Hermione seemed unfazed as she called for him to join her in the tree.

He walked over and stepped into the tree, leaning on the trunk across from her. He reached down and wiggled the shoe slightly, easily pulling the heel out. He handed the white shoe to Hermione and she laughed.

She placed the shoe on one hand and used the other to press into the sole of it, laughing even harder as the heel snapped and the shoe practically collapsed. "Thanks," she said. She tossed that shoe out of the tree as well and then smiled at Draco. "Look up."

He did and so did she. The trees branches and leaves came together above them to form a canopy that lit up with the sunlight trying to get through. It really was beautiful. Some of the branches had small, purple flowers on them that seemed to bring the entire look together for an appearance of perfection.

Hermione grinned up at the gorgeous view from where she was. Draco looked up as well and then looked back at her as she sat in the bend of the limb. She looked relaxed and happy; the thin streams of sunlight that found their way through the leaves making her look aglow. He smiled and looked up again quickly as she looked over at him.

"It's perfect, isn't it Draco?" she asked.

He nodded casually and looked back at her. "Yeah. It is," he agreed sincerely.

"I found it a couple of summers ago," she told him. "I was staying at the Burrow along with everyone else. It was kind of packed with everyone there; I couldn't find a single quiet place to finish my book and so I came out walking." She patted the tree affectionately. "This tree," she said, "is perfect for reading."

He chuckled at her. He could just picture her there, lounging in the middle of a tree, in the middle of the forest, enjoying a book. She was a little crazy. "It reminds me of this spot at our summer home," he said.

"Summer home?" she repeated. "You have _two_ mansions?"

"It's not a mansion. Just a house," Draco explained, waving away her disbelief. "It's in Genoa. There was this cliff there and it had a great view of everything."

He had never told anyone about that. He'd never had anyone to tell. The summer house was just somewhere he and his mother used to go to for short vacations when his father was 'working' a lot. It was a beautiful place and he hadn't been there in at least four years.

"Sounds nice," Hermione commented.

"We should go sometime," he suggested.

The term 'we' wasn't lost on Hermione. She looked down at her bare feet with a smile. "I suppose we should." Draco held back his wide grin.

Hermione smoothed back the sides of her hair and laughed softly. "Hey, do you think they realize we've gone?"

Draco smirked. "I'm sure they've come to their own conclusions."

She made an affronted sound and shot him a sharp, yet amused look. "Don't even," she said.

He laughed at her indignation. "Do you want to go back now?" he asked.

Hermione thought about it for a minute. "Two minutes," she said. "My feet are killing me from those heels."

Draco slapped his hands on his trousers and then motioned for her foot. "Give it here," he said.

"Pardon?"

He picked up her foot and placed it on his knee, forcing Hermione to lean back and stretch out her leg. He began to knead the arch of her foot with his thumbs, and Hermione's eyes widened in surprise.

He caught her expression and shushed her despite her not saying anything. "Relax, Hermione," he cajoled.

She hesitated a moment but as he made a fist and rolled it down the sole of her foot, she closed her eyes and did as he said, relaxing. He squeezed her heel and she nearly moaned.

She was quite enjoying herself when Draco lowered her foot a few minutes later. She frowned. He held back a satisfied laugh as he picked up her other foot and repeated his actions from only a moment ago.

It felt oddly intimate, what Draco was doing. The massage was heavenly and while Hermione wanted to pause and analyze just _why_ it felt so intimate she decided to instead push away the thought for the moment being. She sighed happily as Draco's thumbs pressed into the arch of her foot once more before stopping. His hands lingered there for a moment, letting Hermione know that the massage was over.

She opened he eyes and smiled at him. "Thanks," she said. She wasn't sure if it was awkward or if she just felt awkward, but she knew there was a thin line and a large difference.

"Welcome," he returned.

Draco got out of the tree and offered Hermione his hand. He looked at the stick and rock covered ground before instead moving to put his arm around Hermione's back. He went to lift her.

"What are you doing?" she demanded.

"I'll do the apparating," he told her and then he got his other arm behind her knees, giving her no choice but to let him carry her out of the tree. She wrapped her arm around his neck as he prepared to apparate.

"Wait," she said. "Ginny would kill me if I just left the shoes here…they're probably repairable. Could you shrink—"

"Sure." Draco nodded. Without putting her down Draco managed to pull out his wand and turn them to first shrink the shoes and then _accio_ them for Hermione to catch and place in her small clutch.

Once they were in front of the Burrow Draco began to walk them up the path. "So," Hermione began, "just how did you learn to give such an amazing foot massage?"

Draco smiled. "When Pansy was pregnant she was constantly complaining about sore and swelling feet," he explained. "I had a lot of practice."

"Oh," she said, carefully watching his expression. He seemed unbothered, his smile just sort of slowly slipping away. "It's nice you were so involved."

He looked at her. "Of course. I'm not _that_ much of a jackass."

"I don't think you're a…a…"

"Jackass Hermione," he supplied. "Jackass, would be the word."

"Well I don't think you are one," she said. "Or, not completely anyway."

"Well I don't think you're a know-it-all," he retorted lightly. "Or, not completely anyway."

Hermione opened the front door and Draco shouldered his way through, putting Hermione down in the foyer. "Thank you."

"No problem," he told her.

Ginny rushed by in a flurry with James in her arms and a bowl in her hand. She was back less than a second later. "Where have you two been?" she questioned.

Hermione blushed and then quickly told herself that she had nothing to be blushing about. "We went for a walk," she said.

"A walk." Ginny raised her eyebrows as she repeated the words. "Hermione, they're about to cut the cake, could you help out there? I don't trust anyone with those tiers; I just know that it's going to fall with the first slice."

Hermione nodded. "Absolutely." She headed out to the back and Draco went to follow her but Ginny and James blocked his way and ushered him into the kitchen.

"Blondie, you" Ginny said, "come with me."

"Watch the names, Ginge," Draco warned.

"Charlie!" Ginny called. One of her many brothers came loping over. "Yes?"

"Do you mind taking James for a bit?" Ginny held the bowl out. "His mashed banana is ready and everything. He just needs to be fed."

"Sure, Ginny," Charlie agreed. He took the smiling little boy and the plastic bowl from his sister and then went outside for cake.

The redhead turned on Draco as soon as Charlie was gone. "I need to talk to you," she said sternly.

Harry came into the kitchen with a smile, until he saw Draco. His expression wasn't exactly hostile, but it immediately became serious as he zeroed in on the other man. "So, he's back," Harry said. "Where'd you take Hermione, Malfoy?"

"More like _she_ took _me_ Potter," Draco corrected, matching Harry's steely expression.

He missed the look that passed between Mr. and Mrs. Potter. He didn't see Ginny's eyes widen slightly in worry and Harry's tired look as he reluctantly conceded with his wife.

"Malfoy," Harry started, "what are you doing with Hermione?"

"Just what are you asking, Potter?"

"We don't trust you, Malfoy," Ginny said bluntly. "Hermione might, but we don't. And it's our job to make sure she's not making the wrong choice."

Draco shook his head. "I think Hermione's capable of making her own choices, really."

"Malfoy, all you ever did to her before now was torment her," Harry reminded sharply. "So forgive us for being skeptical."

"You're forgiven."

Ginny stared at Draco. Clearly he was defensive but there was something behind the defensiveness as well. "You do," she quietly. "Oh Merlin."

"What now Weaselette?" Draco asked.

"Hey, watch—" Harry began.

Ginny cut him off. "Forget that," she said, waving away the name. "Watch this: Malfoy, tell me you don't love Hermione."

Draco had always been able to keep a straight face; he'd always known how to hide his emotions. But this time it didn't seem to work. Ginny watched him carefully. "You don't even know what fake reaction to use," she said. "Look at you. Tell me you actually mean it though."

Draco pulled himself together. "Mean what?"

"You like Hermione!" Ginny exclaimed. Draco nearly flinched at how loud she was being.

Harry looked at Draco's evident pain and then turned to Ginny. "Gin, can I get a minute alone with Malfoy?"

Ginny looked apprehensive but she obliged. She gave Draco a final, pitying look and then left.

Harry ran a hand through his hair and then turned to the blonde. "Ginny's right, isn't she?"

"No," Draco scoffed. "Of course not."

"Well then leave her alone," Harry said.

"What?"

"I said leave her alone Malfoy," he repeated. "Hermione's my best friend, may as well be my sister, and I'm not going to stand back and watch you hurt her."

"Who says I'm going to hurt her Potter?" Draco asked.

"Oh, give me a break!" Harry exclaimed. "As if you can't see what's going to happen!" At Draco's blank look Harry shook his head. "You know, every time we come to the Burrow Hermione spends nearly half her time in that forest. I don't even know where she goes there but she goes alone. And now suddenly she's taking _you_. You of all people, Malfoy. You can't possibly be that stupid."

Draco was speechless. When he finally managed to _begin_ to comprehend what the man before him was trying to tell him, all he could say was, "Enlighten me, anyway."

"She's going to fall for you," Harry said. "We all see it. In fact, we all know it except maybe her. And you're just leading her on then, aren't you? Still as cruel and heartless as you ever were to her."

It stung. Swear to Merlin, Draco Malfoy nearly gave in then and told Harry freaking Potter everything about how he felt towards his curly-haired, know-it-all, stubborn little friend. But he didn't. He shoved his hands in his pockets and told him the truth. "I don't intend to hurt her."

Harry nodded. There was a stretch of silence before the dark-haired man spoke. "Malfoy, I ran into Blaise Zabini a couple of days ago," he said. "And he mentioned how crazy it is that you bought that place in—"

"Shit," Draco interrupted. "Shit. No. Potter, you breathe a word about that and I will hex your arse to Bolivia and back," he threatened. He was going to have to meet up with his dear friend Blaise soon then. That traitor of a friend.

Harry's green eyes took on a challenging look. "Fine. I won't. On one condition: you tell her how much you really feel for her."

"What?" Draco asked. "Potter, are you trying to _bully_ me into something with Hermione?"

"Nope," Harry smirked. "I'm just saying that your acting is as shitty as your lying when it comes to Hermione."

Draco thought about this for a moment before he nodded. "Don't say anything," he told him.

"I won't, so long as you do," Harry returned.

Draco really wanted to hate the man in front of him right then. But he realized that Harry was right. And in that moment he hated that fact more than anything.

* * *

"Zabini!" Draco roared. "Blaise! You son of a—" He stormed into the living room and found his friend lounging on one of his black leather couches, his feet up on his glass coffee table, a cold, empty glass forming a ring on the surface. Someone clearly hadn't the patience to nurse their drink.

"Hey mate," Blaise greeted Draco with a smirk. "Looking spiffy."

"You prat!" Draco accused.

"What'd you find out I did?" Blaise asked slowly.

"You told Potter about the—"

"Oh that." Blaise laughed. "Yeah. I thought he already knew."

"He didn't," Draco said. "Why the hell would I have told him?"

"You know, I was wondering the same thing. But Potter seemed surprised so that answered that." Blaise shrugged and Draco glared. "Sit down, mate."

"Why do I associate with you?" Draco asked, throwing himself into the seat tiredly. He undid his tie and hung it on the back of the couch. "Honestly. You are stupid as—"

"Watch the language, mate," Blaise tsked, "you're a father now and that would be no way for a young Juliet to talk. Can you imagine her first words?"

"Shut it," Draco snapped.

"Where've you been?" Blaise asked, looking at Draco's tux. He called a house elf and requested two glasses of scotch. "Oh wait, you had that wedding thing with Granger, right? Looney Lovegood's?"

"Lu_na_," Draco corrected, just as he had been corrected less than a week before. "And yeah, I was at the wedding where, bringing this all back to my reason of being here, Potter confronted me about Hermione."

"What about Hermione?" Blaise questioned. "That you're hopelessly and desperately infatuated with her?"

"'Desperately' is pushing it," Draco told him. The house elf popped back into the room and presented them with a tray, two glasses of scotch sitting atop it. Draco grabbed a glass and took a swig. "And after he and his wife were done interrogating me and accusing me of…I don't know…attacking Hermione, Potter brings up the fact that I made a rather large purchase without telling anybody. Except you. Which is why it was interesting Potter knew."

"Sorry," Blaise apologized without a hint of actual remorse mind you, but Draco couldn't expect much more out of the former Slytherin. He drank his scotch with a grimace. "So you lied to Potter, and?"

"I told him the truth," Draco admitted casually. "But anyway, now Potter knows and he'll be sure to tell Weaselette and heaven knows the ginger can't keep her mouth shut."

"So everyone but Hermione. Or, who knows, maybe Hermione will find out. Of course, not from you, you coward." Blaise smirked and went to sup his drink. Draco turned to his friend with a piercing glare.

"Shut the hell up, you wank." He sighed. "What am I going to do?"

"Man up?" Blaise suggested. He spilt a bit of scotch on his shirt and cursed.

Draco ignored him. "I'll tell them to pick up the pace on her present. By the end of the week I'll give it to her. Potter won't even get a chance to ruin it and I won't have to—"

"Man up?" Blaise supplied.

"I hate you." Draco began to down the rest of his drink. "You know, at least I have someone—"

"I don't think it counts as 'having her' if she doesn't know," Blaise cut in.

"You have no one," Draco went on.

"Bachelor and proud," Blaise pronounced with a nod.

"Well, what happened to that girl you were telling me about before?"

"Merissa?" he asked. "Broke that off last week. She wanted me to meet her mother. Hell. No."

"Damn," Draco said.

"Like I said," Blaise shrugged, "temporary. It was too bad, though. She was hot."

Draco put his glass down and stood, checking his watch. Eight fifty. "I'm off," he announced.

"Seriously?" Blaise asked. "It's not even nine. What? Going home to brood and sulk over the girl?"

"No," Draco snapped. "I'm going home to see my daughter. If I make it back before nine Estelle has me tuck her in."

"Sap."

"Miserably alone."

"_Happily_ alone," Blaise corrected.

"Right." Draco grabbed his tie from the couch. Blaise made no move to see him out. "See you at your ball," Draco called over his shoulder as he left the room.

"Maybe sooner," Blaise drawled.

"I hope not."

* * *

**A/N: Alright, so this is probably full of mistakes but I wanted to post tonight so I will go back and edit tomorrow. I promise. But for now please review and tell me what you think and go on and point out errors too. It will make tomorrow easier for me (:**

**Quick Review Replies (the ones I didn't get to):**

**Angel N Darkness: Thank you. I hope I updated fast enough then, for this you'll have to pardon my mistakes as stated above...**

**Maeve18: Thank you for the compliments. A review is a review, it shows you care enough as it is.**

**Guitargirl222: Well thank you for reading and I'm glad you enjoy it so much. The 17th chapter has left my documents on here as of right now because of the hiatus I was on but I will get around to fixing that floo loo thing. It bothers me. With regards to your beta offer, I sure know I could use one, but you didn't have a beta profile up so I wasn't completely sure. **

**Alright, thanks for reading! Review, please. **

**Anyways,**

**Scarlett**


	20. Chapter 20

Work was such a pain for Hermione in the next week. On Monday morning Anna greeted Hermione with an apologetic smile and a long report on an incident in some small Muggle town where an eleven year old boy, in a fit of anger, caused his fellow classmate to sprout the ears of a donkey. Needless to say, the entire class saw and the young boy went home to his parents with a nonsensical story about how he acquired the odd set of ears. Hermione had to dispatch a good half of her staff to the town to subtly use memory charms on everyone.

And then on Wednesday there was a large meeting between departments where they wasted hours away debating on whether or not to merge certain divisions in each department. It was ridiculous. Draco was at the meeting as well of course, but he didn't seem bothered by the matter, Hermione had other work to be doing. By the end of the meeting they still hadn't come to any final decisions and sent everyone back to work with the assignment of preparing a statement of opinion for the next meeting.

By Thursday afternoon she felt as though she was suffocating in her office. In fact, when Draco came by to ask her if she was ready to join him for lunch, she jumped up and left her office so quickly it was incredible she didn't run straight into him. He had to jog to catch up to her after having to run into her office and grab her coat for her, seeing as she forgot it in her eagerness to leave and didn't even realize that she'd left it until she was standing outside in the rather blustery weather. She thanked him of course, rolling her eyes at her own absentmindedness.

"What's got you bothered?" Draco asked, motioning to the waitress.

"Well work's been—" The waitress came over smiling at the couple she saw so often in the lull of afternoons in the restaurant and Hermione's sentence halted. "Hi Lorie," she greeted, a pleasant smile appearing on her face.

"How are you two?" Lorie asked, pulling out her quill and pad.

"Good," Hermione said. "And you?"

The young girl fixed her dark ponytail and smiled widely. "Good. And what can I get for you?"

Hermione ordered some soup and Draco a sandwich and chips. Draco looked at Hermione with a raised brow. "Soup? Aren't you hungry?" he asked.

"Not that hungry," she said. "Kind of in a rush anyway. I have loads of filing to do and I'm hoping I can go home by—" Draco sighed loudly in exasperation and Hermione stopped. "What?"

"You need to relax," he said, covering her fidgeting hands with one of his own. "Honestly, Hermione." The touch made Hermione's fingers tingle and she covered her gasp by clearing her throat.

"I'm—I'm perfectly fine," she insisted. "I just have a lot work to get done and not a lot of time to do it."

"Screw work," Draco told her. He let go of her hand to take a drink of his water. "Why don't you quit your job?"

She sighed. "We've been over this. Why don't _you_ quit _your_ job?"

He shrugged. "I've been thinking about it."

Her eyes widened as their meals arrived. "Seriously?"

Again he shrugged. "Well, nothing's definite yet. But I figure if I start investing, get into a couple of charities and stuff I can make the money grow without too much effort." He took a bite of his sandwich, chewed, swallowed and continued. "Then, like you said, Estelle could probably work part-time and I'd be able to spend more time with Juliet. And I'm thinking of moving."

"Wow." Hermione gave him an odd look but smiled nonetheless. "Big changes."

"Big possibilities," he corrected. "Nothing is for sure."

"Well it's a lovely idea anyhow," she said, nodding. She quickly began to practically inhale her soup and Draco shook his head.

"Take it easy," he said.

"I've got to get back to work in, um," she reached across the table and grabbed his wrist, checking the time, "ten minutes."

"Twenty," Draco said. He angled his plate towards her. "Now you go ahead and have your soup. Eat some chips. And then we'll go back to work and you'll schedule yourself a day off tomorrow."

Hermione pulled a chip from his plate and popped it into her mouth. "And since when do you tell me what to do?" She gave him a challenging look, reminding him just who he was dealing with.

"Come on," he said. "We'll make a day of it; we'll shop for your dress and mask and such for the ball."

Hermione bit her bottom lip in consideration. It did make sense, she supposed. She hadn't actually gotten her outfit together for Blaise's ball yet and she did intend on going. She wasn't really sure what to wear. If she was completely honest, she was a little excited to go to the ball. Practically every little girl reads fairy tales and dreams about going to a ball, wearing lavish gowns and sharing graceful dances.

"I don't think I can," she decided sadly. "I have a ton of work to get done."

"Forget work," Draco told her in aggravation. This didn't seem to persuade her at all. "After shopping I could give you your birthday present," he tried casually.

That caught her attention. She picked a chip off his plate and ate it. Her mouth twisted a bit as she thought about this. Her nose crinkled endearingly. "Maybe," she told him.

"Maybe?" he repeated.

"Yes," she nodded, "maybe, I'll take the day off tomorrow."

Draco shrugged at her, putting his sandwich down to take a drink of water. "Oh you will," he said surely. "Draco Malfoy always gets his way."

"Right," Hermione agreed sarcastically. She reached for his watch-dressed wrist again and he quickly pulled it away.

"Nope," he said. "No time checks until you're done eating."

She narrowed her eyes at him and then gave him a smug look as she leaned to her right slightly and caught a glimpse of the small clock above the door. "Eight minutes," she said.

"Eat your soup," he grumbled and then again pushed his plate towards her.

Hermione got back to her office nearly twenty minutes later, Draco following her right inside. Anna gave her boss a knowing look as she passed with the blonde in tow. Hermione shot her a quick and sharp expression back. Anna mimed zipping her lips and went back to work, fixing her glasses.

Hermione turned to Draco. "Don't you have a job to get back to?" she asked.

"Anna, you see this?" he said. "She's trying to get rid of me."

Hermione's assistant giggled and Hermione sighed. She looked at Draco expectantly.

"Oh," he said. "Langley can handle it; there's not much going on."

Hermione stared tiredly up at the ceiling for a second before going into her office and tossing her coat on her chair and her handbag on the small table in the corner. She walked back out of her office and pulled her hair out of its side ponytail. She ran her hands through it, glancing back at the many report files on her desk. Work sucked.

She spun to face Draco. "Well there's quite a bit going on _here_ right now. So, if you would be so kind as to _leave_ now, I'd like to get back to work."

"I'll keep you company." Draco grinned.

"I don't need company," she told him, "I need solitude." She gave him a pleading look as she tied her hair back in a bun, a few of the more stubborn curls choosing to stick out. "Leave? Please?"

"Okay," he relented. "Okay, but you're coming over for dinner tonight."

"Do you not know how to extend an invitation?" she questioned.

"Never need to," he replied with a smirk. "So tonight, dinner."

"Alright," she agreed. Anna quietly excused herself and went off to find someone or something. "But I'll probably be late," she added, "because again, I have work to do."

He nodded. "Well then pack a bag and bring it with you. You can spend the night and we'll get an early start in the morning."

"Early start for…?"

"Our day off."

"_Our_ day off?" she echoed. "Maybe _your_ day off. Have you seen that pile on my desk? Do you know how much I have to get done?"

"Enough to want to procrastinate," he said.

No kidding, she thought. Against her own protests she subconsciously racked her brain for tomorrow's schedule. She didn't have any meetings, just a ton of work. And then, if she remembered correctly, she had agreed to dinner with her mother and father.

Anna came back around the corner and Hermione stepped back into her office. "Bye Draco."

"See you later," he replied. "Bye Anna."

"Leaving so soon, Mister Malfoy?" Anna asked.

"I've been asked to leave," Draco told her.

"Numerous times," Hermione added.

"Right." Draco waved at Anna and then took his time heading around the corner and down the hall.

Anna sat down behind her desk and looked at Hermione through her glasses. "Hermione, Dennison wants to know when the reports will be done." Hermione nodded. "And your vote for the divisions is due in Monday." Hermione sighed. "Oh, and tomorrow Dennison says he wants all of September's files sent to the Minister—"

"I'm taking the day off tomorrow," Hermione cut in suddenly.

"Really?" Anna asked worriedly. "It's going to be super busy and—"

"Mark it as one of my vacation days," Hermione said firmly. "Heaven knows I've saved up enough of them."

"Okay…" Anna agreed. She tightened her ponytail. "I suppose the files could wait until Monday, too then. I'm sure the Minister won't mind…"

"I'm sure as well." Hermione nodded and then went into went to her own desk, using her wand to shut her office door. Then she got to work.

* * *

It was somewhere around half past six when Hermione finally stepped out of the bathtub, wrapped a towel around herself and padded out of the loo and into her bedroom. She sat down at her dressing table and brushed her hair out until it was untangled and she was satisfied with the curls that resulted. She dried it magically and then went into her closet.

Draco had suggested that she stay the night, and she figured it wasn't a bad idea. She'd get to see Juliet for a long while and she definitely missed the little girl. It hadn't even been a week since she'd seen her, but regardless Hermione felt like it had been too long.

She stood in front of her closet uncertainly. She couldn't decide what to wear. On one hand, if she was going to stay the night anyway, couldn't she just wear her pyjamas? But on the other hand she was going over for dinner as well and she didn't want Estelle to think less of her for being underdressed. She valued the respect Estelle had for her, the same way she had valued her old professors' high opinions of her. Being able to impress people of her senior was something Hermione prided herself on. Young people were, for the most part, rightly stereotyped for having little class, being overly loud and boisterous, and whenever Hermione got to prove that wrong it was oddly satisfying.

She surveyed her closet carefully. Draco wouldn't care if she was in her pyjamas, and if he did she couldn't care less. She couldn't even count how many times he'd already seen her in sweats and pyjamas anyway. She pulled a ballet pink trapeze dress out a bit from the rack of clothes. "This will do," she mused aloud.

Hermione nodded to herself and pulled the dress from her closet. Slipping into grey leggings as well, she put on the dress and some comfortable shoes. She quickly threw together a bag with pyjamas, socks, a change of clothes and her necessary toiletries. Getting her handbag, she made sure she had a good amount of money on her and her wand as well, zipping the extension-charmed bag closed.

Just as she was about to disapparate her mobile rang. She rummaged around in her handbag to find the small phone she had altered to work easily in the wizarding world. She checked the time and sighed. Seven o'clock, she should have been at the manor by now.

She flipped the phone open. "Hello?"

"Hermione, sweetheart, I finally caught you." Her mother's voice sounded utterly relieved as she let out a sigh.

"Hi Mum," Hermione replied. "I'm in sort of a hurry. I have to get going. Was there something you needed?"

"Where are you going?" her mum questioned. "To work? Hermione, honestly, honey, you're working too much."

Hermione tried to keep the impatience from her voice. "Not to work," she assured. "To a friend's."

"Oh, that's nice," her mum commented. "Tell Harry I said hello then."

"I'm actually going to—" Hermione stopped herself. She knew where this would go if she mentioned Draco. She wasn't quite sure if her mum remembered tales about the arrogant boy from school but she knew that regardless her mother's first instinct would be to ask about her daughter's love life and whether or not this new man was part of it. "—another friend's place," Hermione finished carefully.

"Ron's then?" her mum asked.

"No, actually," Hermione told her. "But listen, I really have to get going so was there something you needed?""

Elaine Granger ignored her daughter's subtle urging and instead questioned further. "Is this friend male?"

"Yes Mum, but we're just friends. Only friends."

"Sweetheart, I wasn't implying otherwise," Hermione's mother soothed. "Does this man have a name?"

"Draco," Hermione said. "I really have to go Mum."

"Draco? Hm. When do I get to meet this Draco?"

Hermione sighed. She looked at the clock and gripped her bags tighter; pulling out her wand she stood ready to apparate. And she would the second she got her mother off the phone.

"No Mum. I don't think you will," Hermione told her. "Now, really, I'm late. I love you. By—"

"Wait!" her mum cut in. "I called to confirm our dinner date tomorrow. Six o'clock?"

"Six o'clock," Hermione agreed.

"And your father's bridge game was cancelled so he'll be joining us as well."

"Great," Hermione said, smiling. She hadn't seen her father in a couple of months, and even then it was only for a few minutes when she went home to pick up some old children books for Juliet.

"Maybe Draco would like to join us?"

"I don't think he does," Hermione answered quickly. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Her mother sighed in defeat. "See you then. Love you, Hermione."

"Love you too, Mum," she replied. "Bye." She hung up and quickly shoved her phone into her bag, pulling her bag up on her arm and waving her wand.

* * *

Where is she? Draco thought. Sure, she'd said she would be late and he hadn't doubted that for a second, but he expected her for at least six thirty. Or maybe she had decided not to show up at all and she really meant it when she'd said that she had too much work to spend tomorrow with him. Although, he could have sworn he heard her announce that she was taking the day off as he was leaving her and Anna.

What if something had happened to her? He slowly began to worry, a rather unfamiliar feeling for him. Worry for anyone other than himself was fairly strange. Well, now he worried for Juliet as well, of course but other than that, it was just him. Maybe he ought to go to her flat and check on her.

Draco paced his study anxiously. Kobs had been the one to suggest that he stop pacing the foyer, he assured him that he would get the door when Miss arrived. So Draco had moved to his study to write a quick letter to his mother, something he had tried to make a habit of every couple of weeks. She rarely replied however, only on occasion and even then the letters were short and to the point of that she was fine and that France was lovely.

Draco didn't resent his mother, not the same way he resented his father. His father could die and Draco wouldn't feel an ounce of remorse now, he was terrible person with a cold soul and no morals. Draco had suffered enough because of Lucius. The man had ruined his childhood and tortured him through his adolescence. Lucius Malfoy plagued his memories, darkened them with terrible times.

Narcissa however, well, she never did anything quite so dreadful to Draco. Not really. She had stood by and watched while his father did twisted things, sure, but she never failed to take care of him. When he was younger and Lucius sent him to bed without supper as punishment for indulging in sweets without permission or leaving doors open when there were guests over, his mother was the one who secretly sent dishes up to his room with a wrapped sweet hidden under the vegetables. And when Lucius's punishments got worse and Draco suffered the Cruciatus curse, his mother had always healed him when Lucius had calmed down. She played the perfect, weak, role of an obedient and loyal wife for so long though, that when Lucius was gone she had no idea what to do with herself. At first she had spent every night awake, wandering the manor as though she was just waiting for him to come back. Later, she became more frantic, always in a frenzy looking for things and talking to people as of nothing had ever changed in her life. Finally it was clear she had lost her mind and Draco had no choice but to send her off to the hospital in France, away from her prying friends and enquiring contacts. They all just made it worse.

Draco began to consider his mother's opinions on all of the prejudices that used to pollute both his, his father's, and a too large percentage of the wizarding world. His mother had never been a death eater, but she followed the lifestyle enough, didn't she? She was a death eater's wife. Of course, in the end, for unquestionably selfish reasons, she did the right thing. And when Lucius attempted to get his friends out of Azkaban, landing himself in there right along with them, she never tried to prove the facts wrong. She just let him go, even though it drove her crazy. Literally.

Maybe it wasn't her. Maybe she was just forced into a marriage with the wrong man. She only seemed to do the wrong thing in light of trying to save him, their family.

Draco imagined that his mother could actually come to really like and admire Hermione if she met her again. Hermione was one of the strongest people Draco knew, and if his mother didn't respect that…well then she really would be a different person than he thought. Even if Hermione did meet his mother sometime though and she _didn't_ like her, Draco didn't think it'd matter to him anyway. Hermione was just that kind of girl. She was special. So special, and so incredible, she made him not care. You'd have to be insane to care about what others thought when you were with her.

Of course, right now _she_ was _driving_ him insane. Where was she?

There was a timid knock at his door. He stopped pacing for a split second, the idea that it could be Hermione at the door passing through his mind, and then he realized that it was a ridiculous idea. She was Hermione Granger; if she was going to knock it would hardly sound _timid_. He then also realized that if it was Hermione, she would have also followed the knock with some sort of statement by now.

He called for whoever it was to come in. "Master Draco," Yip began, "it's time for dinner."

"Is Hermione here?"

"Miss isn't here yet," Yip said. At Draco's aggravated look he added, "Perhaps she'll be here soon."

Draco rubbed the back of his neck tiredly and followed Yip out of his study and towards the staircase to get Juliet. Halfway up the staircase he met Estelle, Juliet in her arms. Juliet was smiling happily, wearing a pale blue cotton dress that made her blue-grey eyes even more startling. Draco grinned at her and she laughed.

"Good evening Mister Malfoy," Estelle acknowledged.

Draco corrected her on the use of his last name for what must have been the fiftieth time. "And good evening to you as well," he returned.

They continued down the staircase and into the dining room where the place settings were already perfectly arranged on the long table before them. Draco got Juliet settled in her high chair and pulled her closer to the table between him and Estelle. The woman subtly noted the extra plate and flatware. She broached the question with a kind smile and a sort of grace that made clear how undoubtedly well-mannered and sensible she was. "Are we expecting company?"

"Hermione," Draco told her blankly.

Kobs came out with their salads. Estelle gave him a polite gesture to hold the salads a moment. "Shall we wait then?" she asked.

Draco shook his head and motioned for Kobs to bring their first course forward. The house elf complied and placed their salads in front of them, nodding slightly before disappearing with a crack. Draco had merely taken a single bite from his dish when Yip popped into the room. "Miss is here," she announced.

Draco immediately jumped up from his chair. Hermione stepped into the dining room and gave him an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry I'm late," she said. "I lost track of time…and then my mum called…oh, but never mind." She sat down next to Draco. With a twinge of disappointment he observed she didn't have an overnight bag with her.

"Master Draco, shall I place her things in the spare bedroom then?" Yip asked.

Draco nodded quickly. "Yes."

* * *

After dinner they sat down in the living room with tea and tiramisu, the best tiramisu Hermione had ever tasted. The cream was delectable and the ladyfingers were like heaven on her tongue.

Juliet sat sleepily on Hermione's lap as they drank their tea with pleasant conversation. The little girl yawned endearingly, the way only babies can, as Hermione ate her last bite of tiramisu. She set her plate aside and pulled Juliet closer to her, watching as her wide, piercing eyes fluttered closed. She smiled at the baby girl.

"So what do you and Draco have planned tomorrow?" Estelle asked.

Hermione gave Draco a questioning look. "Well, I believe we're going shopping," she said. "And then," she sounded unsure, "I might just get a birthday present?"

Draco smirked. "You will," he said. "Probably. But that reminds me, I need to go check a few things on that." He put his cup on the coffee table and stood, walking over to Hermione and reaching for Juliet. "Bedtime," he declared.

Hermione laughed at his use of the word 'bedtime' and stood as well, adjusting Juliet to hold her properly. Estelle got to her feet also. Hermione rocked a bit from side to side, even though Juliet had already fallen asleep; she told Estelle that she and Draco would handle Juliet and that Estelle could relax. Estelle gave her a warm smile and retired to her room, taking her tea with her.

Hermione followed Draco upstairs to the nursery. They kissed Juliet goodnight and rested her in her crib. Draco turned to Hermione and spoke in low whisper. "I need to duck out for a bit," he told her. "You know where your room is. I'll be back in a half hour at most."

"Okay. Should I ask where you're going?" she questioned carefully.

Draco shook his head. "Making sure your present is ready," he explained, heading out of the room and quietly closing the door three quarters of the way.

"How big is this present?" Hermione asked. "Because, really, it sounds like a pretty big deal, and you've already given me—"

"It's not a big deal," Draco assured.

Hermione brought herself up on her toes to kiss Draco's cheek. "Goodnight then," she said.

"'Night," he returned.

* * *

Hermione awoke with a start at the sound of the door opening. She sat up quickly and snatched her wand off the nightstand.

"Stupe—" her voice cracked out of grogginess and her eyes were barely open but her movements were sharp and perfect as she waved her wand.

Draco dodged out of the doorway and held up his hands. "Just me!" he said.

"What?" She lowered her wand and rubbed at her eyes.

"You're just ready to stun anyone, aren't you?" Draco asked.

"It's _habit_," she told him tiredly. "Sorry. But what are you doing in here anyway?"

"I thought maybe you'd still be up," he told her. "It's hardly ten thirty yet."

"Don't you knock?"

"I did. You didn't answer."

"And you couldn't take the hint?' she asked. "I was sleeping."

"Clearly," he stated. "But now that you're up—"

"I can go back to sleep?"

"would you like a glass of wine?"

"No," she said, "I want to go back to sleep." She pulled the covers up around her shoulders as Draco sat down on the bed and leaned back against the headboard, swinging his legs up to stretch out in front of him.

"So how was your day?" he asked. No reply. "What did your mother call about?" Nothing. "You said she called, didn't you?"

Hermione sat up again. "What is wrong with you?" She was slightly amused, but her exhaustion won out in her tone and she merely sounded drowsy and drained.

He sighed. "I had a cup of coffee. I can't sleep."

Hermione yawned, not even bothering to try and hide it or cover her mouth to be polite. "Take a sleeping draught," she instructed.

"It's not even late." He nudged the Hermione shaped figure beneath the covers and she rolled over to look at him.

"Really Draco?"

"Come on Hermione," he coaxed. "Lighten up? A glass of wine?"

"A _full_ glass of red please."

Five minutes later they were propped up with the many pillows in Draco's bed—Hermione had insisted that they go into Draco's room because his bed was loads comfier than anywhere else in the manor—sipping red wine and talking about everything they possibly could. Hermione was still sleepy and Draco was still wide awake but they really were enjoying each other's company.

It was three hours and four glasses later when Hermione finally fell back into the silk dressed pillows, eyes shut and lips parted, wild curls pressed beneath her head. Draco admired her for a moment with a smile before placing his wine glass on his bedside table and lying down beside Hermione. He fixed the pillows under her head so that her neck would hurt in the morning and then spooned in behind her, enjoying the warmth of her body even though he himself was already warm from the wine and warmed sheets. He pushed her hair away from his face and kissed the side of Hermione's neck chastely. "Goodnight."

* * *

**A/N: Hello readers! Thank you so much for reading and please review. Sorry for any mistakes in this I will be editing tomorrow but I wanted to post tonight. Again, thank you for reading and please review it would mean loads after such a terrible day.**

**Anyways,**

**Scarlett**


	21. Chapter 21

Draco woke up on Friday morning and couldn't help but smile. Hermione lay sleeping beside him, her legs entangled with one of his as he spread out in his bed, and her hair splaying out onto his pillow as well as hers. It hardly mattered that they were both still fully clothed; having Hermione there was enough.

He reached over to his bedside table for his watch and checked the time. Six o'clock. It was much too early to get up by Draco's standards. After getting up once in the middle of the night to check in on Juliet, despite Estelle's assurances that it wasn't necessary, he should have been tired. He couldn't fall back to sleep though.

He studied the girl beside him carefully. She looked at peace, the most relaxed he had seen her all week. Work seemed to be stressing her out a lot. He had no idea why. Work was just work. In his opinion, Hermione just took it too seriously. Sure it was her job and, like she was always saying, she needed it but there had to be a line drawn somewhere. She didn't even _like _her job. At least he found his job to be mildly amusing.

Draco began to play with Hermione's curls, twisting them around his fingers and pulling gently to watch them spring back. He smiled and once again made the comparison between the Hermione he knew back at Hogwarts and the Hermione he knew now. It was the same girl really. The same values, morals, annoying habits. Although, he had never really gotten to know the Hermione Granger he went to school with. She was just a bushy haired head with a book for a face and a hand in the air.

Draco got up, grabbed his wand, and collected Juliet from her room, taking her with him and going to the kitchens to fix her first bottle of the day. Juliet was wide awake but in a foul mood. Draco hushed her wails and held her on his hip as he moved around and tried to prepare the formula one-handed. Juliet continued to cry. Draco gave up and pulled out his wand, mixing the contents of the bottle magically.

"There," Draco muttered. "Happy with Dad now?" Juliet's response was a calmed gurgle and Draco wiped away the milk dribbling down the little girl's chin. "Alright," he said, "back upstairs. Come on, Julie."

Hermione woke up to the feeling of something…_missing_. The bed was warm but the sheets beside her were cool. Silk sheets. Where was she?

Green silk sheets. Draco.

Oh Merlin. Everything from the night before was a tad fuzzy from all the wine. She had a bit of a headache. Hermione hesitantly felt beneath the covers. She was fully dressed. Everything was fine. She had just fallen asleep, she assured herself. She blushed, embarrassed by what she had assumed, even though she was by herself.

Where was Draco?

Hermione got up and went into the guest room where her things were. She grabbed her toothbrush and toothpaste and went into the washroom. She brushed her teeth and plaited her hair to the side, splashing some water on her face to wake up. The headache had yet to begin to fade.

She packed away her things and as she went out into the hall to head downstairs she saw Draco coming down the hall with Juliet, bottle in hand and carefully levitating a tray in front of him. He caught sight of Hermione and the tray wobbled a bit as he lost concentration. Hermione rushed forward and took the tray from mid-air. "I'll take this," she said.

"The wine hit you at all?" Draco asked, nodding in the direction of his bedroom.

Hermione carried the tray into his room and placed it on the bedside table. The headache wasn't subsiding. "No…not really," she lied. She looked at the cups on the tray and inhaled. "Mmmm. Tea."

"That one's yours," Draco told her.

"Left?" she asked. "What's the difference?"

"Left," Draco agreed. "And I may have asked Yip to throw in a couple of drops of that pain killing potion."

"Pain killing potion?"

"I just assumed—" But Hermione was already swallowing a mouthful of tea.

"Thank you." She smiled at him. There went her headache. "Hey Juliet," Hermione cooed. "How are you sweets?"

Juliet laughed and smiled.

"Now she's happy," Draco sighed. "You should see this one before she gets her bottle."

"You think I haven't?" Hermione joked. She sipped her tea with a small smile. "So when does our day start?"

"Whenever you're ready," Draco told her with a grin.

Hermione took Juliet from Draco and finished her tea. "Okay. Well, I'll get dressed and then we'll eat breakfast and head out?"

"Sure."

"Is Juliet coming with us?" Hermione asked.

"She's with Estelle today," Draco said. "But we should be back for dinner."

"Dinner?" Hermione repeated. "I'm sorry. I can't."

"Plans?" Draco guessed. Hermione nodded. "A date?" He immediately wished he hadn't asked. Merlin, if there was ever a reason to eat his own words.

Hermione tensed. She didn't know why topics like these came up between them and in split seconds caused conversations to go from being easy and laid-back to tense and edgy. She hated it. These little things that Draco seemed to pull out of nowhere and stretch bigger and bigger until they were so thin it was dangerous. She kept telling herself it was ridiculous. There was no reason for him to be pressing these things.

But then, that day at Luna's wedding, she swore there was something there. If she was honest with herself, she knew. If she hadn't been so hard-headed then he would have said it. She would have told him, too. But now it seemed too late.

And what if she was wrong? What if it was all just some crazy delusion that only _she_ saw simply because it was what she wanted to see?

Somewhere inside of her she knew that she cared about Draco. Cared more, cared _differently_, about him than she should if they were only friends. Was it what she thought it was? She was scared. What if it ruined everything they already built up? There would be no going back.

"No," she said, watching his expression relax a bit. "Dinner with my parents actually."

"I should meet your parents," Draco said.

"Er, no." Hermione shook her head. "No."

"Why?" he demanded.

"My parents are a little much," she said.

"Really?" he asked. "Never would have figured since they've got a daughter like you." His voice was coated thickly in sarcasm.

"Oh, shove off," she said, pushing him playfully.

He smirked. "Right. I guess you're more like a lot of much."

She frowned and Draco couldn't help but note how cute she was. "I'm going to get dressed," Hermione said tightly, a slight hint of teasing in her voice. "And," she added, "I'm taking Juliet with me."

* * *

"So tell me," Hermione started as she and Draco left Gringotts, "where exactly are we going? And what exactly do people wear to these balls?"

She had thought she'd just get a simple gown to wear, but it seemed this wasn't the case as Draco hadn't even considered going to Diagon Alley and he'd dismissed her suggestion of Hogsmeade. She was beginning to wonder just how much this gown was going to run her. Sure, like any other girl, she enjoyed all the pretty gowns and liked putting on dresses that just looked magical but really, she had to draw a line somewhere. Apparently it was a masquerade ball, too, in the spirit of Halloween and all. What in the world does one wear to a masquerade these days?

Draco took hold of Hermione's hand and pulled her down the busy street until they got out of the throngs of people. He pulled out his wand. "Save the questions," he told her. "Now careful, we're apparating."

Hermione shut her eyes tight and let him pull her a little closer. She felt the terrible yet familiar feeling of apparating for moment before her feet touched solid ground again. Her eyes popped open. "Where are we?"

"Paris."

"Paris?" Hermione repeated in disbelief. "You're kidding."

"No," he said. "Come on. We've got to get going."

Hermione followed Draco down the street. She looked at all of the wizards and witches they passed. They looked…trendy. It was obvious they weren't in muggle Paris, but it didn't matter. It seemed that style was pretty impeccable all throughout Paris.

Suddenly Draco was ushering Hermione into a dress shop. She stepped inside and glanced around. Colourful. There must have been a dress in every colour, every shade, every material, every style. It was incredible. Her eyes widened and Draco laughed. "Wow Hermione," Draco commented, "I never knew anything but books could get you this excited."

Hermione laughed and ran a hand across the long racks of dresses. She looked back at him. Oh, there was more than books and dresses.

Draco called over the saleswoman and explained just what the occasion was. The woman had a French accent, reminding Hermione of Fleur with the way her e's came out long. She wore a pink blouse and a black layered skirt that flounced as she rushed off and began pulling gown after gown after gown from the racks. Hermione turned to Draco. "So do I have to wear a mask?" she asked.

"To a masquerade?" Draco raised an eyebrow. "Don't be ridiculous Hermione."

"Your sarcasm is not needed," Hermione snapped. "I really don't know what these balls are like."

"Yes you wear a mask." Draco chuckled. "But honestly, no one wears them for that long. It's mostly for an entrance."

"Is it supposed to be a costume?"

"Hardly," Draco said. "Though, you can if you want."

"Hm," Hermione hummed. "What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Do _you_ wear a mask?" she asked.

"No." He laughed as though it was absurd.

"A tux then?"

"Of course."

"You've been doing this your whole life, haven't you?" Hermione said. "These extravagant parties, I mean." Draco shrugged. "I've only ever been to one ball," Hermione considered. "Back at Hogwarts. You remember, don't you?"

"Yeah," Draco nodded, "I remember. You made quite the impression there."

"I'm more than books Draco," Hermione pointed out.

"I'm well aware Hermione," he returned.

"Dressing room Miss?" the saleswoman suggested, hidden behind a large pile of dresses hung over her arm. Hermione stared at the bright colours and loud ruffles warily.

"Alright," she agreed. She walked through the racks and followed the saleswoman's bob of ginger hair to the back of the shop. Draco parked himself on an armchair in the private fitting area.

There was a three-way mirror at one end of the fitting area, the other end opening out in the shop. Each fitting room was enclosed by a heavy, soft pink curtain. Hermione took the first dress that was handed to her from Fiona, the saleswoman, and went in to try it on.

"Oh heavens no," Hermione said, staring at her reflection. It was atrocious. Huge bows along the tight, knee-length skirt, one-strapped that looked as if it had been done by accident, and the bodice was ill-fitting. She wasn't sure if the dress was made for someone taller or thinner than her, but Hermione was sure it was hugging her in every wrong place there was and bunching where it really shouldn't have.

She quickly changed out of it and held out a hand, asking politely for the next dress. The dress was in the change room with Hermione less than a second before it darted back out. "Too bright," she said. She vetoed another four dresses based on colour; too pink, too colourful, too grey, too reflective. She rejected two for being too small. She passed on another two gowns for having ridiculously puffy cap sleeves and busy bodices.

By her fourth outburst of frustration, Draco took it upon himself to rifle through Fiona's pile and pull out any dresses that would only further aggravate Hermione. No more sleeves, he decided, no more loud colours and no more frills.

He handed her the next dress.

"Are you crazy?" Hermione asked through the curtain. "I'd have to be five inches taller to wear this!"

"Sorry," Draco shrugged. He handed the dress to Fiona and the petit woman threw her hands up.

"That's nearly a dozen!" she exclaimed. "Darling, what do you _want_?"

Hermione stuck her head through the heavy curtain. "I...I want a dress. An elegant, pretty gown that makes _me_ feel pretty." Hermione looked between her two audience members with genuine question in her eyes. "Is that a lot to ask?"

"No," Draco said. "Try this one."

Hermione put on the dark blue dress she was handed and stretched behind her to pull the zipper up. She stepped out and stood in front of the three-way mirror. "It doesn't fit right," she sighed. "My hips look huge."

"Oh, stop," Fiona said. She helped Hermione unzip the dress, but before Hermione could hide herself away in the changing stall, the dress fell away from her body.

Draco stared. Hermione was wearing a fitted camisole, so she wasn't standing in just her bra and knickers, but it was definitely a lot more skin than she'd show on purpose. She blushed scarlet as she glanced at Draco.

"Now let's just see here," Fiona said in her slight French accent. "I've never had a woman leave this shop without a perfect dress. And I will not start today." She hummed as she spun Hermione in a complete circle.

Hermione avoided all eye contact with Draco and stared at the floor.

Fiona tapped underneath Hermione's chin with the back of two fingers. "Chin up, chérie." She caught Hermione's blush. "Oh, come now, I'm sure the boyfriend doesn't mind."

"He doesn't mind," Draco threw in. He smirked as Hermione shot him a look.

"Wait right there," Fiona ordered suddenly. She hurried off around the corner and out of Hermione's sight.

It was just Hermione and Draco. Hermione could feel the heat of his gaze on her legs as she moved back to the safe enclosure of the pink curtain. As she turned Draco was able to take notice of every single curve of her body. Every bloody curve. His mind was whirling with indecent thoughts.

"She said wait right _there_ Hermione," he reminded her with sly expression, beckoning her back to where he could see her.

She raised an eyebrow at him but went back to where she had been standing previously. She smirked. "Are you aware that you're staring?"

He pointedly let his gaze flick from her eyes to her legs and back up again. "You've certainly grown up," he commented. "A guy can't help it."

She felt her cheeks flame and she began to fiddle with her hair, just to have something to do. His staring was making her feel warm. She couldn't deny that she was enjoying it. She glanced behind her and realized that with the three way mirror, Draco was getting a full view of every angle of her. Where was Fiona?

"What about these?" Fiona's voice called through the shop. Hermione couldn't see what she was asking about but Draco was able to lean back in his chair to look at whatever she was holding up.

He pointed at things that were hidden from Hermione's view around the corner. "Hell no. Yes. And…I don't know; you'll have to ask her."

Fiona seemed to be having trouble putting one of the gowns back before she came back to the fitting area with two dresses over her shoulders. She held them up. One of them was simple. A deep purple, floor-length number with off the shoulder sleeves and a simple, flowing skirt. It was certainly pretty but held up next to the gown on the right it was nothing. The other one was breathtaking.

Hermione pointed to the one on the right. "That one," she said. "May I try it on?"

"Certainly," Fiona agreed. "It takes a bit of work though. It's going to go over your head. Arms up."

Hermione raised her arms compliantly and ducked a bit as Fiona opened the skirt and guided the dress over Hermione's head. She moved around her to zip up the back while Hermione held the front up to her chest.

It was gorgeous.

"It's vintage," Fiona explained. "I honestly never wanted to sell it. It's beautiful. I want to keep it just to look at it."

Hermione stared at her reflection. The gown was made of pale-champagne coloured silk net and embroidered with sparkling sequins in shades of blue and silver. The bodice fit snugly up to just above her hips before spreading out into many petal shaped layers that overlapped to form the skirt, each petal outlined with the darker sequins.

Anything else with that many sequins Hermione probably would have vetoed. But this was different. It was elegant and beautiful and vintage with an almost modern side to it as well.

"Well would you hate me for buying it then?" Hermione asked.

"With how you look in it?" Fiona asked. "Chérie it'd be crime to hate you. Although I'm sure all of the other girls at the ball will be envious."

"I wouldn't count on it," Hermione said, looking at Fiona in the mirror. "Those girls are far more experienced in all of this ball business than I am. I'm sure they'll all be stunning."

Draco stood from his chair and walked over to stand behind Hermione. "They couldn't even compete," he said softly, placing a hand on her waist and waiting for her to look at him. "Not with you."

* * *

Hermione was even more excited to go to the ball now that she had her dress. It was still quite a while away but that was okay. She was glad to have something to look forward to.

Her dress was insanely expensive. At least, by her standards it was. She had never spent that much money on any item of clothing before. But she had been sold on it from the second she put it on and she refused to let Draco pay for it. He insisted that he was the one who had invited her to the ball and therefore he should be allowed to cover all of her expenses of going to ball but she flat out told him that that was ridiculous and that she had money, she'd handle it herself. And she did. It ate up a whole paycheck really, but Hermione decided that for once, she'd let it be worth it.

She bought a silver and dark blue mask to go with the gown and then she and Draco called it quits for the day's shopping revenue. Draco already had a perfectly tailored and suitable tux at home for the ball and insisted that was all he needed, no matter how many times Hermione tried to get him to try on a mask. He distracted her easily with an offer to go out for lunch.

"Lunch sounds so good right now," Hermione said. "I'm starving."

They apparated back into London, Hermione's shopping bags shrunk down to fit into her small handbag. "Come on then." Draco took Hermione's hand and nodded down the street. "There's a pub down that way. Best fish and chips I've ever had."

"Lead the way," Hermione told him.

The pub was small. Four tables and a bar squeezed into this little area with mirrored walls. But with the smell of frying chips filling the place, it seemed perfect. Her stomach growled.

The four tables were occupied but the bar was open. Draco led the way to two, faded red vinyl covered stools and ordered two plates of fish and chips and a glass of beer. Hermione asked for lemonade.

"This doesn't really seem like your kind of place," Hermione said once they had gotten their drinks.

Draco shrugged. Hermione gave him a skeptical look. It seemed a little dingy for his taste, especially compared to places he usually went to. "You come here often?"

"When I'm in the area." He smirked as he realized what she was thinking. "Why? What do you think of the place?"

"It seems nice," she said. "Of course, I've yet to taste the food so I guess I shouldn't speak too soon." She eyed him curiously. "How'd you find this?"

"Blaise's prick of a cousin brought us here once. It's lacking in ambiance," Draco shrugged, "but the food's good."

"I hope so," Hermione said.

Their food arrived moments later and Hermione tucked in right away. She wasn't kidding when she said she was starving. And Draco sure wasn't kidding when he said the food was good. It was delicious. Crisp chips and perfectly battered fish.

She sipped her lemonade. "This is really good," she said.

"Exactly," Draco agreed with a nod. They ate for a few moments in silence, savouring the food.

"So, I've decided to quit my job," Draco informed her suddenly.

"Quit your job?" Hermione asked. "Definitely?" She waited for Draco's confirming nod before smiling widely, shocked. "When did you decide this?"

"Last night, while we were talking," Draco said. "I'm handing in my two weeks notice Monday morning."

"I'm impressed," Hermione said; her sentiments evident in her expression.

"Thank you." He grinned. "Quit your job with me."

"What?"

"Quit your job with me," he repeated. She looked at him like he was crazy. "Oh come on! We're always talking about it!"

"_Jokingly_," Hermione said. "We talk about it jokingly."

Draco continued as if she hadn't said a word. "Why don't we do something about it?"

"You are! You're quitting your job! That's great! You don't need it!"

"_We_," Draco said. "_We_ should do something about it."

"Draco, _you_ talk about quitting your job," she said. "I talk about how I _can't_ quit my job. There's a difference."

"Why can't you quit your job?"

"I need a job. Unlike some people."

"Then get a new job! A job you actually like."

"We've been over this. My job…my job is fine."

"You should like what you do Hermione."

"That's a luxury I can't afford," she said sadly. "But really, I'm so glad for you."

"Sure." Draco smirked.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Hermione asked.

"What's what supposed to mean?"

"Your 'sure'," Hermione explained. "To what is it in response?"

"I was merely agreeing with you," Draco told her. She raised an eyebrow. He chuckled and took a swig of his beer. "We'll settle this later."

* * *

"Are we going home now?" Hermione asked as they left the pub. She belatedly realized her use of the word 'home' and stumbled to cover it. "I-I mean back to the-your-your manor."

"Hermione, it's okay," Draco said. "It's more of a home with you in it than it was ever before." He didn't know why he said it. Sure it was true. But he didn't mean to say it.

"Um," Hermione looked embarrassed, "thanks."

"Yeah…"

"So…where are we going?" Hermione asked.

"Bookshop," Draco replied.

"Which one?"

"There's a new one in Diagon Alley," he said.

"I haven't heard of any new bookshops opening in Diagon Alley." Hermione looked at Draco curiously. A new bookshop? That'd be interesting. Her face lit up a bit at the idea.

"It's not exactly open yet," Draco said. "Look at you all excited." He smiled at her in amusement.

"If it's not open, why are we going?" she questioned.

He ignored her. "Come on."

Within seconds they had gotten to their destination, standing inside a cozy looking bookshop. There were old, floor to ceiling shelves against the walls and slightly shorter shelves on the floor. There was an open area with a beautiful, oval, antique rug surrounded by comfortable looking armchairs and a loveseat. It smelled like books. Both new and old. And then near the back, Hermione wandered through the shelves, there was a narrow archway passage, about five feet long with the inside walls lined with more books.

To anyone else the place would've seemed chock full with books, but Hermione knew there was still space for more. She read a few of the titled spines. Magical books.

"What do you think?" Draco asked.

"It's so charming," she said. "Are we allowed in here though? I mean, you said it wasn't exactly open yet…"

"It's fine."

"Are you sure? No one's here."

"We're here," he said.

She rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean! Won't the owner be angry?"

"I don't know."

"Well maybe we should just go," she said, though her gaze continued to scan shelves and look for unfamiliar books. She made no move to leave.

"Hermione?" Draco waited to get her attention. She didn't even glance at him. "Hermione?" he tried again. She didn't even blink as her fingertips skimmed a few of the old book spines. "Granger!" Draco said sharply.

"Yes?" Hermione turned and looked at him in surprise. Clearly she didn't understand why he had used her surname and in such a snappy tone.

"I've called your name a couple of times now," he told her.

"Oh. Sorry." Hermione looked around once more. "Draco, this is lovely but…is there a reason we're here? Should we be here?"

He laughed. "You know, I did promise you your birthday present today."

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "Is it from here?"

Draco held out a hand and Hermione took it with a questioning expression. He led her outside of the shop and she frowned slightly at having to leave. Walking her across the street, he turned her to face the shop.

After a moment of silence and just standing there Hermione asked the question. "What are we looking at?"

Draco shook his head at her and gently tilted her face upwards a bit until she focused on what he was showing her. She read the sign carefully. And then she read it again. And again. "_Granger Book Corner,_" she read aloud. "You're kidding."

"Happy birthday," he said.

"Draco, you're…you're…what is this?" she asked meekly.

"Your bookshop," Draco said. "If you want it that is."

At her shocked look he continued. "Before you say anything," he waited, she didn't say anything, "let me just clarify that I bought the shop for you, for your birthday, but I was hoping you'd want to take it and run it, and this could be your job. So you don't have to work at the ministry anymore."

Draco looked at Hermione, watching for a reaction. "Hermione?"

She turned to him and glanced at the shop. "This is really sweet of you," she said. "I mean, I'm not even going to mention how you shouldn't be spending this much money on me and how unnecessary—"

"Sounds like you're mentioning it."

"Look, I just…" She smiled. "This is _really_ nice of you. The biggest thing anyone has ever done for something so small for me."

"Hermione, would working _here_ and doing _this_ make you happy?" Draco asked.

She hesitated to admit it. "Yes," she said quietly.

"Then it's not so small then, is it?" he said.

Hermione smiled shyly at his meaning. "Thank you. This really is the most wonderful thing _anyone_ has _ever_ done for me."

"You're welcome," Draco returned. "I'm glad you like it."

"I do," she said. "But this is a really big deal. I can't just accept it like this."

"Then…don't," Draco said reluctantly with a sigh. He ran a hand over his hair and looked at the shop then back at Hermione. "You can think about it, okay? Just promise me that when you think about it you won't think about me or how much this costs. I want you to think about what you want."

"Sure," Hermione agreed. "Thank you. Thank you so much." She threw her arms around his neck and he wrapped his arms around her waist in return. He relished the feel of her in his arms and inhaled the scent of honey and vanilla from her. As she began to pull away her cheek brushed his and the heat of her skin felt searing hot against his cooler, pale, complexion. Electricity shot through him and Hermione's stomach flipped. Neither of them really processed what was going on. His nose skimmed lightly across her cheek before his lips captured hers. And she kissed him back, pulling him back as he pulled away. And one of his hands tangled into her hair while the other pulled her closer. And one of her hands was running down his arm as the other slid to rest on his chest. And her lips were warm and soft. And his hands were big and strong.

And suddenly everything was different.

* * *

**A/N: So there it is. I hope it was worth the wait considering how long this took me. Sorry about that. If any of you are curious about what Hermione's dress looks like you can google Junon dress Dior 1949 and you'll find it easily. I just pictured it to have a slightly longer bodice that stops being fitted closer to her hips. **

**Please review, I love reading them and they help me write. Constructive critcism is much appreciated. Thank you to all of you who reviewed the last chapter. It meant worlds. Honestly. **

**Thank you for reading!**

**Anyways,**

**Scarlett**


	22. Chapter 22

Ginny stared at Hermione with a smile. "So you kissed. And then what?" she asked.

Hermione pulled her dressing robe tighter around her and sipped her tea sheepishly. "I told him I had to leave," Hermione admitted.

"You what?" Ginny demanded.

"I said I had to go," Hermione repeated. She struggled to remember the rest. "And then something about seeing him later."

Ginny winced. "And he said?"

"Nothing," Hermione said. "I left before he had the chance."

"And you waited until _now_ to tell me all of this?" Ginny said.

"I still had to go to dinner with my parents," Hermione told her. "I couldn't cancel." She sighed. She had felt terrible all through dinner with her parents. She was hardly able to focus on anything they said all through dinner and had declined their hopeful offer for tea back at home. As soon she'd returned to her flat she flooed over to Harry and Ginny's and stole Ginny from her husband for the night. Harry was understanding; he didn't press Hermione even though he could tell something was wrong. He just hugged her hello and goodbye, knowing it was a girl thing, and assured that he could handle James by himself for one night.

"So you just left?" Ginny asked.

"Yes," Hermione said. "And I feel awful."

"Because of what happened or because you left?"

Hermione was silent.

"We need more tea," Ginny decided. She got up and took their mugs with her. She turned on the kettle and Hermione let her head fall back to hit the large cushion behind her.

"Leaving was really unfair of me, wasn't it?" she said.

"Hermione, the man got you a _bookshop_," Ginny said. "You kissed him and then left."

"I didn't know what to do!"

"You sound like the schoolgirl you never were." Ginny sighed. "Do realize how Draco feels about you?" She fixed the tea and brought their mugs back to the sofa, sitting and handing Hermione hers.

"Well, I-I thought…_maybe_…" Ginny nodded at Hermione's meaning. "But you know how terrible I am at reading these things."

"Not as terrible as you think," the redhead said. "He's mad about you."

"He's—how do you know?"

"Everyone can tell," she said.

"So why didn't anyone tell _me_?" Hermione asked.

"We figured in time you'd realize it yourself," Ginny said. "Really, Hermione, as bright as you are, you miss some pretty obvious things."

"Ginny, what do I do?" Hermione asked.

"Talk to him," Ginny told her, sipping her tea with an empathic smile. "He deserves an explanation…even if it isn't what he wants to hear." Ginny watched Hermione carefully, trying to decipher whether or not how she felt _was_ what Draco would want to hear. "Well?" she prompted.

"You're right," Hermione agreed. "I do need to talk to him."

"What do you plan to say?" Ginny questioned.

Hermione tucked a curl away into her bun and placed her once again empty mug on the coffee table. She hugged a throw pillow to her chest and rested her chin upon its edge, thinking everything over. "Ginny, you know those…all or nothing situations?"

"Sure," Ginny said, waiting to see where her friend was taking this.

"That's what this feels like," Hermione explained. "It's like this huge risk, you know?"

"Hermione…" Ginny's voice was curious as she gave Hermione an odd look. Then suddenly her approach became very different as her tone changed to be slightly stern. "For goodness sakes! You're Hermione Granger! You've jumped on the backs of dragons, faced death eaters; you have your own bloody chocolate frog card for helping to save the wizarding world for crying out loud!" Ginny yelled. Hermione's eyes widened at the outburst from her company and Ginny calmed down at bit. "All I'm saying is that the Hermione I know shouldn't even bat an eye at something like this. The Hermione I know would take it all in a pinch and _go for it_."

"It's different than all of that though!" Hermione cried. "Sure, I can ride a dragon and throw a wicked curse but those were…it was life or death. What choice was there?"

"This is bigger than life or death?" Ginny questioned.

Hermione quietly drew in a deep breath. She knew this was going to sound ridiculous. "Life or death," she said. "You do it or you die. We took chances and if it didn't work, it was most certain that we'd _die_. What else is there? That'd be the end."

"I'm sorry. What?" Ginny asked.

"This is different," Hermione continued. "If I take the chance and it doesn't work, I highly doubt death will be the consequence. I'll have to forever deal with the fact that I ruined a perfectly good friendship like that. I couldn't do that. If it doesn't work…it'll all be a waste."

"And if it does work out?" Ginny prompted.

"Well then great." Ginny smiled. "But I don't want to risk it." The smile fell.

"The 'what ifs' might be a worse fate than anything." Ginny finished her tea and gave Hermione a knowing look. "You should at least pluck up the courage and try."

Hermione sighed. "Oh, you know what it's like. How long did you like Harry before you decided to do something about it? How long did it take for_ you_ to pluck up the courage? You only think this is easy because you're happily married with a child."

"How do you think I got there?"

"Gin, you…I mean…I can't," Hermione stumbled helplessly.

"You can't?" Ginny repeated incredulously. "You mean you won't. Or you simply don't want to? Which is it?"

"You know," Hermione began, "I don't know."

"Well I can't help you there." Ginny ran a hand through her fiery red hair and gave Hermione a small, caring smile; the kind of smile girls have perfected, naturally comforting to nearly all other girls. "I reckon you have a decision to make then."

"I suppose I do," Hermione agreed.

Ginny looked at the clock and noted how late it was. "Well, when are you going to talk to him? It's getting pretty late."

"Not tonight!" Hermione exclaimed. "I can't—I'm not going to talk to him until I know what I'm going to say!"

"You're too thoughtful for your own good." Ginny laughed. "If you're not going to talk to him tonight then let's just go to sleep." She nudged Hermione and took their empty mugs into the kitchen, placing them in the sink and rinsing them out.

"I couldn't sleep," Hermione said sadly. "I'm wide awake." She thought about Draco. She could easily go to the manor now. Surely Draco would still be awake. No. She couldn't go. What in the world would she say to him? Maybe seeing him would bring it out of her. She'd see him and know exactly what to say. Exactly what to do. No. She was being ridiculous. She'd figure it out for herself and then talk to him. It'd be crazy to go see him now.

"You were telling me about some film a couple of weeks ago, weren't you?" Ginny suggested. Hermione nodded. "I'd be interested in watching it on the…er…"

"Telly," Hermione supplied. "Sure."

* * *

Draco finished bathing Juliet and wrapped her in a soft towel, just her size, carrying her into the nursery. "Well, you like Hermione, don't you Julie?" Draco said to the little girl. He laughed. "Of you course you do. Hel-heck, you like her better than you like Dad, don't you?"

Juliet yawned and blinked up at him, and Draco decided that he shouldn't bother his daughter with his troubles, even if it was completely possible she didn't comprehend a word of any of it. He was met by Estelle in the nursery. "How did bath time go?" she asked. "Here's a nappy and her change of clothes."

"Thanks," Draco said. "And pretty well I think." He turned slightly and held his free arm out, showcasing his fairly dry shirt. Or, well, his midsection was pretty dry, all things considered, his sleeves were rolled up and still soaking wet.

"Lovely," Estelle commented with a smile.

Draco got Juliet into her cream sleeper, decorated with little sheep, something Hermione had picked out. He smiled at the little girl and kissed the top of her head. "Alright," he said, "ready for bed?"

Juliet gave him a sleepy look as she blinked slowly and gurgled quietly.

Draco took that as a yes and placed her in her crib, wishing her sweet dreams. Estelle kissed the little girl goodnight as well and followed Draco out of the nursery, closing the door silently behind her.

"A cup of tea, Draco?" Estelle asked. "You look like you might need one."

"More like a firewhiskey," Draco muttered.

"Firewhiskey you say?" Estelle laughed and eyed the young man inquisitively.

Draco pulled out his wand and dried his sleeves distractedly.

"Well come along then," Estelle said. Draco looked at her. "Get that drink in you and maybe you'll feel up to talking about it."

"About what?" Draco asked.

"Hermione I'd presume," Estelle replied.

"What about Hermione?" he asked, playing dumb for all it was worth.

Estelle smiled at him as though mildly amused by his childishness. She shook her head.

"That obvious?"

"As I said," Estelle told him, "lovely young woman. And she makes you happy."

Draco's expression became tired as he had to agree. "I need that drink," he said. "Yip."

Except he wasn't really calling Yip so much as addressing her since she had appeared in the corridor and waited the moment for him to finish speaking. Draco looked at Yip, motioning for her to say whatever it was. He wanted for her to hurry up so he could then ask for his firewhiskey.

"Mister Zabini is here," Yip announced. "Shall I—"

"Zabini?" Draco cut in. "What does he want?"

"Yip doesn't kno—"

"No Yip. That was rhetorical. Thank you for telling me he's here." Draco tried to give the elf a reassuring smile but it was more of a grimace than anything. "Take firewhiskey to the sitting room and…" He turned to Estelle. "Would you like anything?"

"If Mister Zabini is here then I may just go to my room," Estelle said politely.

"No," Draco told her. "No, join us. I could use a wise opinion on all of this. Blaise is bull-ridiculous." Something about cussing in front of a woman like Estelle was not right. Even to Draco.

Estelle laughed. "Alright." Yip looked expectant. "Hot water, lemon and a touch of honey please."

"Certainly Estelle," Yip agreed. She nodded and disappeared.

Draco and Estelle went downstairs into the sitting room to find Blaise Zabini lounging on the sofa. "Hey, mate."

"Evening," Draco said. "Blaise, this is Estelle; Estelle, this is Blaise."

Blaise got to his feet a held out a well-bred hand. "Nice to meet you."

Estelle shook his hand and sat down. "My pleasure."

"You're Juliet's nanny?" Blaise guessed. "Draco's as well then?"

Estelle laughed politely and shook her head.

"What are you here for?" Draco snapped.

"I was in Diagon Alley this evening. I had a date." He made the T sharp and punctuating. Draco didn't even look mildly interested so Blaise continued. "I saw that the sign was unveiled on that gift of yours. How did _that_ go?"

"I'm not going to talk about that," Draco pronounced flatly.

"Ooh." Blaise sucked in air through his teeth. "That bad, eh?"

Estelle watched Draco for a reaction. Blaise was already pouring the liquor whilst Estelle picked up her teacup and sipped silently. Draco took the firewhiskey and took a short drink. "It was fine," he said.

Blaise helped himself to some of the liquor as well and then turned to Draco. "Fine," he repeated.

Estelle stirred her drink with a small teaspoon and spoke to Draco with a soft yet clearly audible voice. "So what did Hermione think of it?"

"I think she liked it," Draco said, trying to sound confident though even he could hear the uncertainty in his voice. "Except, she hasn't quite accepted it just yet."

"Ah," Estelle said, dismissing that as any sort of problem. "She's very independent. She'll come around. You may have to negotiate a bit though."

Draco knew she was right. "Negotiation I can deal with," he said easily.

"So, tell me, what exactly is the problem here?" Blaise questioned.

Draco downed his glass.

Blaise nodded. "You told her how you, er, feel?"

Estelle smiled and Draco glared at his friend angrily. "No, I didn't actually."

"Then what?" Blaise studied Draco carefully with narrowed eyes. "Did you _shag_ Granger?" he exclaimed.

Estelle looked affronted by the younger man's language and she gave him an admonishing look. "Mister Zabini," she said, "the way we speak matters. Check your language."

Draco watched in amusement as Blaise turned his empty glass in his hands and looked properly chastised and just the slightest bit annoyed. "Sorry," he muttered. "But, erm, did you and Granger…"

"No," Draco said. "Not that it'd be any of your business."

"So then what the f—" Draco raised an eyebrow at Blaise and Blaise quickly looked over at Estelle. "What are you getting so warped about?" Blaise finished lamely, feeling it didn't quite have the same effect as what he'd wanted to say.

"I'm not _warped_," Draco said. "I'm confused. She, uh—" It sounded so juvenile to be telling his best mate and nanny about a simple _kiss_ for heaven's sake. Although, it hadn't felt all that simple. He stalled in taking a drink from his glass and then muttered, "I kissed her and then she left."

Blaise laughed unrestrainedly, placing his glass on the table and trying to control his breathing. "I'm sorry," he said in between gasping breaths. "_You_ kissed _her_ and she _ran away_?" This started a whole new peal of laughter from him. He certainly found the situation amusing. Draco did not.

"She didn't run away," he said indignantly. He turned to Estelle since it seemed Blaise wasn't even listening anymore. "She didn't run away," he insisted. "She said something about having to leave. To meet her parents or something. And she certainly kissed me back."

Estelle looked at the troubled young man before her fondly. "Have you actually told her how you feel?" she asked.

"No." Blaise laughed. "He's too scared."

Draco shot him a death glare. "You can leave now if you like," he said flatly. "Door's that way."

"I think I'm fine here mate, but thanks." Blaise patted Draco's knee condescendingly.

Estelle shook her head at Blaise and turned to Draco. "Well, if there's ever a good place to start I'd reckon that's it," she said. "You need to talk to her. I haven't known Miss Granger for long, but from what I've gathered she's clear-headed." Estelle set down her teacup. "She's logical and sensible."

"Smart," Blaise threw in.

"Yes," Estelle agreed. "And I think you've most likely shocked her with your change in actions. She may just be as confused as you are. Do you think I'm correct in suggesting you speak with her before anything?"

Draco nodded dumbly.

"Alright then." Estelle nodded with a smile. She finished the last bit of her hot water, lemon and honey, placed her teacup back down, and then stood as if it had all been timed and rationed to perfection. "Thank you both for your company, I'll be off to bed now."

"Goodnight," Draco wished her. He threw a look to Blaise and Blaise quickly sat up.

"Goodnight," he said as well.

Estelle smiled in satisfaction and left the two young men by themselves.

Draco checked his watch. "She's probably just going to sleep," he muttered. "I could go now and I'm sure she wouldn't—"

Blaise looked at his friend as though he'd gone mad. "To Granger's?" he asked. Draco nodded and stood up, rolling up his sleeves and running a hand over his hair. "You've got to be joking. You can't go now."

"Why the hell not?" Draco demanded.

"I'm sorry," Blaise said, "did you not just hear the wise old woman? You can't go now. She doesn't want to see you."

"How do you know?"

"It's Granger for Merlin's sake! She's probably analysing and planning every damn word of what she wants to say to you as we speak. If you go now you're going to force her to make quick decisions. That's not going to go over well," Blaise told him.

Draco paused, sat down, and though about this. He hated to admit that Blaise was probably right. Damn the man. He ran his hands through his hair. "Fine."

"Good," Blaise sighed. "Now drink your whiskey."

Draco picked up his glass and finished its contents. "Tell me, there must have been more of a reason you came over here," he mused aloud.

Blaise put his feet up on the table and Draco didn't bother to stop him in any way. He waited. "Well," Blaise began, "if you want the truth, I was sort of missing Pansy, you know? And I got to thinking about how it used to be with the three of us."

Draco sighed and leaned back into the sofa. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, I know."

Blaise looked around. "It's a bit of a kick, really," he said. "How she's changed things." Somehow Draco knew he wasn't talking about the living Pansy but the late Pansy. He thought about the last five months.

"I mean," Blaise continued, "everything's different mate." He poured himself another glass. "And…" he took a long drink, "did you know I've stopped going to the bar on Thursday nights?"

Draco shook his head. "No. I didn't know that." He hadn't known if he'd been there at all since Pansy died. He wouldn't. Draco hadn't stepped foot in that bar since the last time the three of them were together. And that was before Pansy's stomach had begun to swell. She stopped going once it had. In fact, unless Draco was unaware of an occurrence, Pansy hadn't seen Blaise at all once it'd started to show on her. She didn't want anyone knowing.

"And," Blaise said, a mix between outrage and pride in his voice, "I've started going in to work on Friday mornings." Draco raised an eyebrow. "Most Friday mornings," Blaise said. Draco laughed at the idea. "Fine. _Some_ Friday mornings," Blaise amended. "Alright? But it's enough anyway. Friday mornings." He nearly snorted at the idea.

Draco laughed and took a swig of his drink, leaning back into the sofa. He turned to the dark Italian beside him. "No offence mate," he said, "but, I think you were expected to show up on Friday mornings from the beginning. I'm pretty sure that's part of the job." Blaise shot him a look as if that part of his job had never applied to him before.

"Well, it's more than that," Blaise continued. "Look around." Draco did look around but he didn't quite get what he was looking at.

"Yes?" Draco prompted.

"You've got a family now mate," Blaise told him. "You're a freaking dad now." Except he didn't say 'freaking' as he swallowed back a quick shot of the whiskey. "With Juliet. And then...when you get Granger… You're working on starting a permanent life now."

Draco shrugged. "I guess I am. Sure. But, honestly Blaise? I think it's less about all of that and more about growing up." He shook his head. "We weren't like this five months ago."

"You weren't," Blaise muttered. He sighed. "Man, I've got to get moving."

Draco nodded and waited for Blaise to finish his drink and leave then. He didn't bother getting up to see him out. But then, a moment or two later when Blaise still hadn't moved, Draco realized he wasn't speaking literally.

"I need to do something," Blaise said. "What the hell am I doing? Life is short." He paused, then flatly, "Pansy showed us that. If I died—"

"Hey," Draco cut in suddenly, angry, "don't—"

"Hear me out," Blaise demanded. "If I died next week, what would they say? What could they possibly have to say about me at my funeral? What have I accomplished?"

"Nothing," Draco told him sharply.

"Exactly," Zabini agreed. "Exactly. I'm going to show up to work every day. Every freaking day." Again the word 'freaking' wasn't 'freaking' but it did come out slurred. "And I'm going to get into a relationship. An actual relationship. With an actual girl."

Draco raised his glass to him. "You do that."

"I will," Blaise announced. "I'm going to do something." There was silence for a moment and Blaise's expression and tone sobered up a bit. "We're better now that's she's gone, aren't we?" he said.

"That's a freaking awful thing to say." Now it was Draco's turn. He stared straight ahead.

Blaise shrugged. "I'm not happy she's gone. But if she had to leave like that, we damn well need to make _something_ good of it."

"You think she _had_ to leave that way?" Draco asked.

"I don't know," Blaise said.

"Then don't say it," Draco snapped.

Blaise clapped Draco on the shoulder. "Hey—" he started.

"No," Draco cut him off, not wanting to hear whatever it was he wanted to say. The silence draped itself over them and they let it, drinking and thinking in quiet company. It was an hour and half later when Blaise left, a curt nod in Draco's direction and a quick pouring of firewhiskey into his glass before vanishing the bottle. "See you, Draco," he said.

Draco returned the nod and then called a house elf to clear the tray and glasses. Kobs appeared in seconds and popped away with the evening's remains. Draco retired to his bedroom and kicked off his shoes, stripped off his shirt and trousers, and pulled on his pyjama pants. He couldn't find his t-shirt and didn't have the energy to look for it. He got into bed without it.

He lay there for a moment, thinking over the day's events. He closed his eyes. Hermione came to mind. And then she wouldn't leave. Hermione's beautiful face, her crazy, wild hair, how it would feel to kiss her. Really kiss her. Run his fingers through her hair, touch her soft skin, pull as close as she could possibly get. And then his imagination went a little further.

He began to feel warmer and warmer in his silk sheets and was glad that he hadn't found his shirt. He turned over and wiped his mind, deciding he ought to focus on something else.

It went back to Hermione.

And again, he considered going over there right now.

No, he told himself. No. He couldn't and he wouldn't because it was a stupid idea that would lead to stupider things being said on his part. That wouldn't help anybody. He'd just stay where he was. Right in bed, trying to fall asleep. Wishing Hermione was with him.

She wasn't though. Draco resented this greatly.

He thought about what he'd say to Hermione once she decided to talk to him. And he was certain that it wouldn't be long before she did. She was Hermione; if there was one thing she was certain to do, it was confront everything head on.

Draco closed his eyes, the buzz from the alcohol making his body feel alive and charged and his mind relaxed at the same time. What if Hermione didn't think of him that way? What if she just brushed it off as being nothing?

He couldn't really form a full thought of what he'd do if that was the case. It had never occurred to him the possibility that Hermione might just say…well, nothing about it. If she just said it didn't matter, they were friends, _just_ friends.

Of course, friends would be better than nothing, wouldn't it?

Draco ran his hands through his hair, pulling at it a bit as he turned over again. Up until now, there was always this hope that he could get Hermione. Even when she went out with Michael Gardner, he still knew there was a chance. A chance was enough. But what if she could _never_ see him that way? He didn't know if he'd be able to take it. It would all but kill him to be friends with her, see her all the time, and know he couldn't have her. He wouldn't know what to do.

Now his mind was on the verge of racing. He groaned as he realized that he had now made sleep virtually impossible. Reaching over to his bedside table, he pulled open the drawer and sifted through the contents blindly. He touched the cool glass of the vial and quickly grabbed it. He didn't even bother sitting up as he uncorked it and tossed the potion back. He swallowed hard and tossed the empty vial back in the drawer, slamming it shut and rolling over for the last time. Then he let sleep wash over him like the salvation it was.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you so much for reading this and I hope you guys can put up with the filler chapter. Confrontation is coming soon.**

**Please review! Especially if you guys have been reading since the very beginning, I'm curious to see how many of you stuck around.**

**Thanks again.**

**~Scarlett**


	23. Chapter 23

Hermione woke up from her restless sleep feeling both grateful and dreadful. She was torn. And tired. So, so tired.

She closed her eyes for a moment more before convincing herself that she really ought to get up. Her flat was rather cold and with a glance out the window she saw how miserable the weather was. It looked cool and gloomy and to top it off it was spitting rain. She sighed and pulled on her dressing robe. Early October and in London it was already time to pull out her flannel pyjamas and curl up with good books, blankets and hot tea.

She brushed her teeth and washed her face before padding her way into the kitchen. She didn't feel like she could stomach a real breakfast, her stomach kept twisting in anxiety. She opened the refrigerator and frowned, she had slightly better luck in the pantry. She grabbed a handful of almonds and popped a couple of them in her mouth.

Hermione was never one to hold off or stall in confronting a situation, but it was only nine o'clock. That gave her plenty of time. She wasn't putting it off. Not at all. She was just being considerate, it was borderline rude to go bothering people before half past ten. She decided she could use a hot shower.

She took her time in the shower, actually taking the time to rinse and repeat. She waited until well after her fingers had pruned, trying to enjoy the hot water before returning to the real world.

She stood in front of her closet, contemplating what to wear. She pulled on a pair of dark, fitted jeans and a cream, over-sized, wool jumper. It was nice for the bad weather, cozy and warm. She plaited her hair back and put on some light makeup, merely to hide the dark bags settled beneath her eyes. But som mascara and lip gloss couldn't hurt either.

It was ten o'clock. She sighed. She supposed she had time for a proper breakfast then, she may as well. She opened the refrigerator and frowned at its lack of contents. There was less than a third of a carton of eggs, but nothing to go with them. There was milk, a head of lettuce, a lemon and bottle of ketchup. Not really breakfast material. Perhaps the better idea would be to go to the patisserie down the block. It might not make for the most nutritious breakfast but it would sure as hell taste a lot better than whatever she could concoct.

She grabbed her black umbrella from the coat closet and slipped on a pair of comfortable shoes, heading out of her flat and into the dreadful weather. She assured herself that whatever danish or cake she got would be worth the short walk and relentless wind.

For once, the patisserie was near empty, probably because no one else had wanted to venture out into the first truly terrible day of the season, opting to sleep in like any ordinary person would. Hermione however, was in no state of mind to sleep in, far from that sort of peace; so instead, she stood patiently behind the one other person in the shop, debating between muffins, cakes, pies and tarts.

She checked her watch. It was twenty past ten and by the time she walked back to her flat it would be at least ten to eleven.

But it was Saturday. Draco probably wanted to sleep in. So she shouldn't go disturbing him quite so soon. It was still early. He'd probably still be in bed.

Or not, she considered. He did have Juliet. She'd hardly sleep until nine o'clock. Now, Hermione realized, she was just making excuses. She wasn't going to put this off. She was going to talk to him. And she was going to do it soon. Really soon. As soon as she was done getting breakfast.

"Can I help you?" the boy behind the counter asked.

Hermione hadn't even noticed that the woman who had been in front of her had left the shop. She stepped up to the counter as the boy waited for a reply.

He was probably somewhere around seventeen, putting on a pleasant face and a patient smile. He looked like he'd just gotten out of bed though, and rolled himself to work.

Hermione smiled back at him and apologized. "I'll just be another moment."

He looked about the empty place and nodded at her. "Take all the time you need."

She stared at all the tempting sweets. The apple pie looked delicious, but she knew she couldn't possibly eat it all on her own, and the small chocolate mud cake and white chocolate cheesecake looked scrumptious. She quickly made up her mind. "I'll have the apple pie," she pointed, "one of the mud cakes and the small white chocolate cheesecake." She nodded before adding, "Takeaway please."

"Sweet tooth?" the boy asked while beginning to pack the desserts away in a white box. He flashed her a quick grin.

"I'm going to meet a friend, actually," she said. "Or, well, I'm not really sure if he is a friend at the moment." She began to muse aloud to herself. "Well that's ridiculous. We're friends regardless, just, possibly more than that at the moment, I suppose." The boy behind the counter looked up at her with a cross between confusion and hidden amusement at her mutterings. Hermione's glanced at him and looked embarrassed. "I'm sorry, I'm just…talking to myself."

"No worries," he said.

"Well I'm hoping he'll enjoy the cake and all," she said, gesturing at the dessert he was now putting on gloves to take out of the glass case. "Heaven knows I won't be able to eat it all."

It was a slow process for him to pack the sweets, he kept fumbling as he tried to fold the first small box and it seemed like he hadn't enough hands. The top flap kept slipping back up as he tried to pull it down. Hermione wanted to tell him that if he just took the cake out, properly creased the boxes fold and then tried again it would work fine, but she didn't want to tell him how to do his job. She just took a seat at one of the small café tables and watched as he gradually figured it out.

She made conversation. "It must be difficult working here," she commented, "surrounded by all of these sweet, tempting things that you can't eat."

He chuckled and shook his head. "It's not that bad." He shrugged. "I mean, I do have to taste test all of the new recipes and there's no harm in swiping the batter off the spatula every once in a while."

"I'd be terrible here," she said, "tasting more than a bit of the entire inventory."

"Well," he began as once again he fiddled with the box and fought with a roll of the bakery's stickers to seal it. "My mum always said that if you're going to do something than do what you love. Surround yourself with it. So. Here I am." He held out his arms in a grand gesture to the shop and in doing so the box top once again popped straight up.

Hermione laughed and thought about discreetly using her wand to cast some sort of sticking charm.

"What do you do?" the young man asked.

Hermione was caught off guard. She covered coolly. "I work on a board. You know, office work, many boring people."

He finally got the first box closed and moved on to the second one. "Ah. Work _and_ boring to describe your job? My mum would tell you you ought to quit."

Hermione sighed.

"Sorry," the boy apologized, "not my place."

"No," Hermione told him, realizing how her expression must've come across. "It's fine. It's not that. It's just that recently I've been told that quite a bit."

"And are you?"

"I'm sorry, am I what?"

"Er, stop me if I'm getting too personal here, but I meant are you quitting your job."

"I wish I knew," Hermione said.

He raised an eyebrow at her.

"I'm halfway to owning a bookshop," she said. "Sort of."

"You're building a bookshop?" he sounded interested.

"It was sort of given to me…" she said. "By a, um, friend."

"Is this the same, um, friend you were talking about earlier?" he mimicked.

"Yes," she admitted.

"Either he's really loaded or he really loves you." He paused. "Or both, possibly."

Hermione smiled. "Well the first is certainly true."

The boy finished packing the second box, carefully stacked it beneath the first, and moved on to the third. "Mind my asking how long you've known him?"

"Too long." Hermione closed her eyes and sighed.

"Sounds trying."

"I've known him since I was eleven."

"How…sweet?" he attempted.

"Oh, but you haven't heard the tale yet," Hermione told him. She kicked one leg onto the other, crossed at the knee and slid a hand into her hair. "He was complete a complete and utter prat."

"Was?" He grinned. "Up until when then?"

"Up until when I _re-_met him about five months ago." She looked at the glass case and her stomach rumbled.

"Oh," she said suddenly, "could I get a latte as well please?" She needed to put _something_ in her poor, empty stomach.

"Certainly."

"Thanks."

"So, he was a prat," the boy said, "what made you _re-_meet him?"

"Our work paths crossed in a strange manner," Hermione phrased carefully. "It was crazy really."

"And he'd changed?" The young man packed the third box and went on to start her latte.

"No." Hermione laughed. "Goodness no."

"You tamed him, eh?"

"I wouldn't say tamed him, no," she said, though this came with an obligatory smirk. "Between me and Juliet, I'd say we more…found and uncovered the better in him."

"Juliet? So there's another woman." He nodded and raised his eyebrows. "Is that what makes this all so complicated?"

"She's not a woman." Hermione laughed. "She's a baby."

"A baby? Yours?"

She tried not to notice how his eyes flicked down and back up her body. "Not mine. His."

"Oh, man." He shook his head incredulously. "He's got a kid." Hermione nodded calmly. "You love the kid, don't you?" She nodded. "You love him?" She nodded. "There's a catch isn't there?"

"There is," she agreed. "I love him. I love them both. But I only _think_ I might be _in_ love with him."

"That's a problem."

He finished fixing her latte and brought it straight to her. "Thank you," she said. "I'm so sorry for putting all of this on you. It's really kind of you to listen though."

"Ah." He waved it off. "I'm happy to."

"I feel terrible," she said, sipping the latte and wiping the foam off her lip. "I haven't even asked your name and I'm telling you all of this."

"You want my name?"

"It'd make me feel better."

"Charlie," he said. "And, actually, we live in the same building."

"Really?" She didn't really make friends or socialize with any of the people who lived her building. She usually apparated most places she went, so there was no need to be out and about in the corridors or lobby. She didn't see many of her neighbours. Now she felt even worse about talking to the boy like this. Charlie. "I'm sorry. I didn't even realize…I'm—"

"Granger, isn't it?"

"I was going to say Hermione."

"Hermione. Interesting."

"Name?" she questioned.

"No actually. Person." She raised an eyebrow at him. "I work weird hours here," he explained. "I'm in and out of the building all the time and I've never really seen you leave your flat."

"You thought I was a hermit?"

"It seemed plausible."

"I go out," she assured. She finished her latte and went to the counter to pay for everything. He began to ring it all up. "Say, how old are you then?"

Charlie gave her an odd look. "Sixteen," he said. "So, you know, if it doesn't work out with your friend…"

She laughed. "As nice as you are, I'm a little too old for you. And really confused anyway." She paid for all her desserts. "Thank you, Charlie." She smiled. "You're a nice bloke. I'll see you around then."

"You're welcome," he said. "And I hope it all work out for you then."

"Thanks. So do I."

* * *

Draco stared at the clock. Seven. Seven o'clock. He wondered where she was. She got up relatively early, didn't she? If she wanted to be here now, she could be, couldn't she?

Where was she?

Maybe somewhere in the back of his head he knew he was being unreasonable. Absurd. Irrational. But he didn't care. Besides, with the headache pounding in the back of his head, the ever constant bitter taste in his mouth, and his incredibly dry throat, he couldn't much care for anything. Except maybe a pain-killing potion and a large glass of water. And for Hermione to show up.

He got dressed quickly and requested his potion and glass of water. Within the next twenty minutes he had Juliet changed, dressed, and her bottle prepared for feeding. He would have felt a little invincible if he could've added that he 'got Hermione to fall in love with him' to that list.

He took his potion and guzzled the water before grabbing the prepped bottle and loping his way up the stairs, feeling his headache subside. He fed Juliet and brought her downstairs, telling Estelle to sleep in.

He sat with Juliet in the living room for a while, reading an old novel with a spine that was slowly wearing down from too much reading. He had read it too many times to count back in his time at Hogwarts. The main character of the novel, he could hardly be called a protagonist, was a cynic. He was bitter and cold and spent majority of the book describing how awful everyone else around him was.

It was rumoured that the character was loosely based upon the author himself, one Mr. Simon Bouvier, and Draco remembered how he used to all but idolize the man. Secretly of course, it was not becoming of a Malfoy to 'look up to' anyone. Even people like Voldemort, his father never looked up to the snake, oh Merlin no; he cowered in fear at his feet. But Draco used to read Mr. Bouvier's work and agree whole-heartedly with every word.

He read the book for about an hour before it really started to get to him. It made him angry. He couldn't believe he had ever enjoyed this bullshit. He used to read that book at least once every other month back at school, scowling and glaring along with everything the main character observed.

But this man, this man he had thought was ingenious, was wrong. About _everything._ Draco was ashamed as he tossed the novel aside.

He felt pity. But not for himself. He didn't feel sorry for himself at all, in fact he felt sort of grateful that he could no longer see any truth in what Mr. Bouvier wrote; he could no longer take joy in the empty and sour writing. He _did_ however feel sorry for Simon Bouvier. This man, this poor man holed up somewhere in the world, probably glaring out his window at people—if he had his drapes drawn open to let the sunlight in at all—was pitiful. Draco knew for fact that Bouvier had never written another book. He was a recluse. Loneliness was the bane of his existence.

Draco called Kobs and told him to shelve the book away in the library, not missing the surprised look on the elf's face. He had always given them specific instructions to never touch that book. Kobs took the book and assured Draco that Miss had not arrived yet. Still.

Juliet sighed quietly and Draco sighed in return. He smiled down at the girl. "Should Dad go to her?" he asked. "No. Right? No. I should wait. Dad should wait."

Juliet burbled something short and Draco nodded. "Well, Julie," he said, "let's make time pass." He sat her on his lap and pulled out his wand. Juliet reached for it and he shook his head. "No, no," he said, "not for you." He _accio_-ed the treasury from Hermione and flipped open to the table of contents, tucking his wand away. He didn't recognize any of titles. Well, except for "_The Velveteen Rabbit_" of course. He skimmed through the book until he found an interesting illustration. And so he began reading the tale of "_Thumbelina._"

Juliet seemed to be listening intently. So when he finished the tale twenty minutes later, he started another and then another after that. Pretty soon he had finished the second half of the thick children's book and he closed it with a resigned glance at his watch.

Twenty minutes past nine.

Estelle came downstairs and collected Juliet for a walk around the gardens and tea. Draco thought about going with them, but he wanted to be present when Hermione arrived. Assuming she would arrive eventually of course.

"Should I be worried that she isn't here yet?" he asked as Estelle picked up Juliet and smiled at him earnestly.

"No," she told him. "It's early yet. Don't worry."

"Right," he said, glancing at his watch for the umpteenth time. "It's early."

He went upstairs as Juliet and Estelle headed out to the gardens. He changed out of his white button down, feeling too formal and stiff, and opted to wear a white t-shirt instead. He kicked off his shoes as well and sat on the couch in front of the unlit fireplace. The curtains were pulled open, letting in the gray sort of light from the gloomy weather outside. It was slowly getting bright as the sun began to come out and Draco hoped that Juliet and Estelle wouldn't mind the low-spirited weather.

He didn't know how long he sat there, wondering how long it would be before Hermione would try to talk to him. Would she have sent him an owl? Expect him to go see her? He wasn't really sure what was expected of him at all really. He had never been in this position. He liked the fact that Hermione was the type of girl to have standards. She was wonderful and she deserved someone who was everything she wanted, but he couldn't help but think that he would never be that. And he hated it.

He leaned against the arm of the couch and stretched out his legs along the length of the seat. He closed his eyes for a moment and tried to will himself to refrain from checking the time. It worked. He either fell into a light slumber for a little while or just let his thoughts rest long enough to be at peace. He wasn't sure which.

He was shaken from his repose by a sweet, gentle voice. "Draco?"

He opened his eyes and blearily looked up into Hermione's uncertain face. He sat up quickly and shot her a sincere smile. "Morning."

"Verging on afternoon actually," she said. "Is…is it okay that I'm here? I'm not imposing, am I?"

"No," he said quickly. "Not at all. It's more than okay."

"Okay," she repeated. "Have you eaten? I brought…" She held up a few white boxes to finish her sentence. When he didn't answer her expression fell a bit. "You've already eaten," she surmised. "Well it's never a bad time for dessert." She waited for any sort of green light from him.

He snapped himself to attention and shook his head. "I haven't eaten," he said. "What've you got?"

She broke out into a smile and he swung his legs off the couch to make space for her. She tried to hide her hesitation at where to sit. How close was too close? She didn't want to sit so far that it seemed she was trying to distance herself. _Was _she trying to distance herself?

She sat down, but her decision of sitting close enough to touch but far enough that it wasn't obligatory didn't matter as Draco slid over to open one of the white boxes she had placed on the coffee table. His arm brushed first her arm and then her knee as he flipped the top up on one of the boxes and looked inside.

"Mud cake?" he asked. "Oh Merlin, I don't remember the last time I had mud cake."

"It's from the shop near my flat," she said. "I was hoping you'd share it all with me. I was much too indecisive in there.

He laughed. "I'd be happy to." He summoned Mitzy and requested plates and utensils. Just a moment later they were both tucking into the delicious cake.

As good as the cake was; it was like they were both anticipating the other's first move. They glanced at each other carefully, waiting to see who would bring it up first. Who would be the first to break into the ice?

Hermione gathered her courage.

"So," she began, "I want to talk to you about yesterday."

Draco waited for her to go on.

"I, um, I had a great time yesterday." He raised an eyebrow at her and she quickly decided she couldn't beat around the bush. "When you—when you kissed me yesterday…what was that?"

For a fleeting moment Draco considered the millions of lies he could have told. But instead he chose the truth. Honesty. Even with as much hurt as he imagined it could cause. "That," he said, "was what I've been wanting to do for a long time."

"How long?"

"I don't know Hermione," he said. "A while."

"A while of what?" she pressed. "Wanting to kiss me?"

"Well there's that," he said. "And a little more than that," he added with a smirk.

She blushed.

"And," Draco continued, "there's that I have deeper feelings for you."

"Deeper?" she asked.

"And they named you the bloody brightest witch of our age," he commented humourlessly.

She frowned at him. She knew he didn't mean it snidely. Not really. But the teasing tones that had become routinely for them weren't exactly there either. And it just seemed to point out how lousy she was at this. Sure, she was bright, but nowhere on the N.E.W.T.s did it ask what you would do when you had undecided feelings for a man who was supposed to be a former enemy and platonic friend.

It wasn't so simple as to study for the kind of thing. You had to experience it. Live it. This was not charms or potions of DADA. This was love and this was different.

Draco caught sight of her expression and sighed. The regret sort of seeped and settled its way into him as he reached over and took her hand in his. She gave him a half-heartedly dark look, the question in her eyes overpowering her displeasure. "Draco," she started.

"Sorry," he apologized. "Look, I'm just…I'm shite at this."

"At _what_?" Hermione asked. He didn't answer her. He took his final bite of cake and it was all Hermione could do not to scream at him when she did the same. What made him think this was a good time to eat _cake_?

"At being honest," he said decidedly after swallowing. "It's so very un-Slytherin."

She would have laughed. "If you're honest, I'm honest," she offered.

"Alright," he told her.

There was a pause while they stared and waited for each other to speak.

"You first," Hermione said.

Draco raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, don't give me that," Hermione warned. Draco held back a smirk. "_You_ kissed _me_, Draco," she said. "_You_ go first."

He went to argue but when she gave him that expectant look, he knew it would be a fruitless effort. He took a deep breath and let it out shortly. "I love you."

Hermione nodded dumbly at his abruptness.

"Hermione you've got to say something," Draco said, slowly letting go of her hand.

She gripped his hand and looked him straight in the eyes. "I love you, too," she said.

Draco smiled and leaned forward slightly. Hermione didn't move. "But," she started.

He sighed as his head dropped forward and then he tiredly leaned back against the couch. "What?" he asked.

Maybe it sounded a little rude. But Hermione heard the slight desperation in his voice and it made her heart ache. His voice seemed to manipulate her as her insides felt like they twisted along with that one word. She bit her lip and looked down.

"Draco, hear me out." She tried to think of the right way to put it. How to tell him she reciprocated his feelings, and still explain everything around it. "I know I love you. You and Juliet. And you have to know I love you, too."

He nodded. "Not the same way I love you," he concluded flatly.

"Not exactly." She blushed. "I think I may be falling in love with you as well."

Draco looked up, masking his hopefulness with cool and collected interest.

"I just…" Hermione struggled for words, something that didn't happen often. "Draco, what exactly do you want from this?" Her voice was careful, debating.

Draco ran a hand over his hair in response.

"Drop the façade, Draco," Hermione said exasperatedly. "I want an honest answer. Please."

It was the 'please' that did it for him. The 'please' that broke him to roll out the truth. "I want to be with you," Draco told her.

She smiled. "I really do love you," she said. "I just don't want to ruin what we have between us by…jumping into this too soon."

"So…what does this mean?"

"I don't want to change anything until I know for sure."

"So when you fall in love with me, for sure…then?"

"Then." She gave him hesitant smile.

He smirked. "All I've got to do is get you to fall in love with me?"

"That's all."

"Well then." He leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers. His lips played with hers for a moment before he pulled away with a lopsided grin.

"What was that?" she demanded unsurely.

"Step one of many."

Her voice was quiet as her cheeks tinged pink. "No more of that."

"No promises."

"Draco."

His reply was to pop open another of the pastry boxes and dig his fork into the cheesecake. "This is pretty good."

"Draco."

A change of subject was in order. "So what about the bookshop?"

Her fork dipped into the cake as well and she looked away. "You're right, this is good."

"Hermione."

"Draco."

So it wouldn't be easy. One thing at a time.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter! You're all lovely. I hope this wasn't too much of a disappointment; I almost wanted to take it all back but I'd first like to see what you all think. **

**I'm hoping to get to 300 reviews with this. Thank you especially to Marauder'sGirlDani, who reviewed the last chapter, that made me really happy. **

**Thanks for reading.**

**Anyways,**

**Scarlett**


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N: IMPORTANT PLEASE READ! Hello my lovely readers, I'm sure there is a number of you wondering why chapter 24 is here again. And soon you may wonder why half way through it isn't the same. **

**I think there was some justified criticism on the last chapter, it seemed a little too out of place for this story. So I scrapped the drama in this chapter and instead went fairly fluffy. And I'm asking you all to read this and then tell which chapter you preferred. I loved writing both, though I admit I felt like I was cheating on the prior chapter by writing this one. But I think my readers, you, know this story well and can give me a better opinion of how this story feels and what fits into it and what doesn't. **

**So please read on and give me your opinion at the end. Thank you!**

"Damn!" Hermione swore as the palm of her hand pressed the edge of the hot pan. The pain was enough for her to forget that Juliet was in the room. All rules about foul language around the baby flew out the window. She stared at the red mark curving across the pale flesh of her hand. "Ow."

"Oh, Merlin," Draco muttered, halting his antics and rushing over, wand out and ready to attempt healing spells.

"No." Hermione turned away and quickly knocked the tap handles with her good hand, sticking her other hand under the rushing cold water. "I'm fine," she said. Draco was hardly listening as he leaned over her shoulder and looked at her palm. "Draco I'm fine," she said again. "Can you move the pan to the back burner? I don't want the toast to burn."

"Screw the toast; are you okay?" he demanded.

She shot him an incredulous look. "I'm _fine_."

He grabbed a tea towel and quickly froze some of the running water, wrapping it in the towel and placing it in her hand, curling her fingers around it. Now that he knew she was okay, he felt it acceptable to go back to his objective. "You _are_," he agreed, turning of the faucet.

She gave him a mock glare. "Don't be sleazy, move the toast."

He did and she leaned back against the counter with a long sigh.

Hermione looked over at Juliet, stationed in the transfigured high chair. The little girl was holding a toffee coloured bear that was a little over half her size. She seemed to be fighting with it as she threw it to the ground; she let out a piercing laugh.

"Oh, get the bear for her, would you?" Hermione said.

Draco walked over and picked the bear up from the floor, placing it back in Juliet's reach. "What happened?" he asked, nodding at Hermione's hand.

"_You_," she said. He waited. "You distracted me."

He raised an eyebrow. "How so?"

"Shut it."

"Oh come on, Hermione."

"I don't know Draco," she shook her head with a laugh, "you tell me. What were you doing?"

He had only been going through her books. He hadn't realized it would bother her. And he was just kidding around when he teased her about the section of romance novels. Of course, Hermione _hadn't_ been bothered by his interest in her reading selection, and she had even laughed at his short quips on the romance titles. However, when he had reached up to that top shelf and his t-shirt had ridden up to expose an intimation of the v-shaped area near his hips. Hermione's attention to the stove had ceased. Until she burnt herself.

She gripped the ice in her injured hand and tried to use the spatula with the other to flip the toast out of the pan. It wasn't exactly working since she couldn't hold the pan in place. After watching her huff angrily down at the cooking ware, Draco stepped in and took the spatula from her.

"Don't ruin the toast!" Hermione told him.

"I'm not going to ruin your damn toast," Draco assured. He put the spatula down on the countertop and used his wand to move the toast from the pan to the deep dish Hermione had put out.

"Careful," Hermione warned.

"I'm not incompetent," Draco snapped. He finished with the toast and turned to her. "We're late, aren't we?"

"Yes," she nodded. "We're late."

"Then we'd better get going."

Hermione placed the ice on the edge of the sink in favour of pulling out her wand, but Draco stopped her. "Floo," he said. "Bring your ice." He got Juliet and her teddy bear from the high chair and walked over to the fireplace.

"I hate using the floo," she muttered.

"I don't know anyone else who _prefers_ apparating," Draco said.

"You go first," Hermione instructed.

He shook his head. "No."

"Why? You always go first."

"Yes," he agreed. "But if I go first there is a ninety-two percent chance you will apparate and leave your ice the second I'm gone."

She narrowed her eyes at him stubbornly. "Or maybe you're just afraid that if _you_ go first George and Ron will get you with another one of those pranks."

"No," he scoffed. "If they did I'd—"

"What?" she asked in amusement. "It'd be two against one."

Draco shot her a smirk as he ushered her into the fireplace; she didn't argue when he handed her the floo powder. "I could take it."

"I'll take Juliet," Hermione said.

"I've got her."

"Don't be stupid; you need to bring the French toast," she told him. Hermione held Juliet with her right arm, her left hand containing the floo powder, and enunciated clearly, "The Burrow."

Draco watched the green flames engulf her before she disappeared and he grabbed the dish of French toast and followed after her.

They certainly were late. When the three of them stepped into the kitchen they were met with a chorus of "Finally!" and Hermione winced as she said hello to Mrs. Weasley.

"Sorry," Hermione apologized sheepishly. Everyone was already seated around the table—well except for Mrs. Weasley who was hustling her way around the kitchen. "Have you been waiting long?"

"Yes," everyone said in unison while Mrs. Weasley shook her head with a smile.

"And you brought Draco," Ron said satirically. "Again," he added.

"Nice to see you, too," Draco replied, placing the toast on the table and sitting down.

"And you brought Lettie!" George exclaimed.

Hermione laughed and sat next to Draco as Mrs. Weasley also took her place at the table. George reached for Juliet, and since the little girl had already been fed, Hermione saw no harm in handing her over.

Everyone had already begun helping themselves to all of the food and Hermione followed suit. She engaged herself in conversation with Mr. Weasley after he thanked her for sending him some of her DVDs. He had, of course, dozens of questions to ask about them and Draco was both amused and interested as he listened to their conversation.

Breakfast ended and Hermione helped to clear the table and offered to wash the dishes that were too big to be magicked to clean themselves. There were only a few; it wouldn't take her terribly long. She set to washing the dishes as everyone else moved to the living room. Draco lingered.

"Go," she said. "I'll be done in a few minutes."

He looked wary to trail after the majority redheaded crowd but Hermione shook her head. "George has Juliet and—oh," she said. "We forgot her diaper bag, didn't we? Sorry, I guess I missed it when we left."

Draco seemed to think this over and realized that she was right. "I'll go get it," he said quickly, glad to be excused from being in Weasley company without Hermione.

Hermione gave him a look to let him know that she knew _exactly_ why he'd be so happy to get it but nodded nonetheless. "Okay," she said. "But if you're not back in two minutes I'm telling Molly you left without a proper goodbye."

Draco laughed. "I hardly think any of them would care whether or not I'm here."

"Well, it certainly wouldn't help your case to be impolite," she told him. He looked at her pointedly unbothered. "Fine. Then I'll tell them all you left with no intent of coming back. Abandoning Juliet."

He glared at her. "Never. I'll be back in two minutes flat. Don't get your knickers in a twist."

Draco left and Hermione laughed as she continued to scrub the dish in her hands until it, and her hands, were completely sudsy. She didn't hear the man enter the kitchen behind her over the cool running water from the tap.

"Hermione?"

Hermione spun around to see Harry standing beside her. "Hello Harry."

"Malfoy just left," he said.

"I'm aware," she told him. "We forgot Juliet's diaper bag."

"We?" Harry repeated.

She let out a sigh. "Me, Draco, whatever," she said. "Either way it's at my flat."

"You have a minute then?" he asked.

"Sure," she nodded, moving on to the next dish. "While you're here then, you can dry."

Harry picked up a dish towel and the dripping dish Hermione had placed to the side. Hermione laughed. "You can use your wand if you like," she reminded.

He ran a hand through his mess of dark hair and shook his head. "That's alright."

"Suit yourself," she allowed.

Harry began to dry the dish and Hermione continued scrubbing. "So," she started, "what is it?"

He seemed to ignore her question as he questioned light-heartedly. "How're you, Hermione?"

"Good," she said with an amused smile. "You?"

"Good," he returned.

There was silence as the water ran and washed the soap off another dish. Hermione handed it over to Harry. She looked at him with a slight smirk. He was clearly itching to ask _something_.

"So, Harry," Hermione said, "I suppose Ginny told you everything."

"No," Harry said quickly. He then added, "Told me what?"

Hermione laughed openly and flicked water and a few bubbles at him. "Well fine then," she said. "I'm not telling you anything. You'll just have to ask."

Harry opened his mouth to say something when Draco came striding back into the kitchen. "How's my timing?" he asked.

"Terrible," Harry muttered whilst wiping the water droplets of his glasses.

"Four seconds to spare," Hermione replied.

Harry gave Hermione an odd look, clearly not understanding what the time was relevant to, and then turned to Draco. "Malfoy, can you leave?" he asked.

"Harry!" Hermione admonished.

"What?" he said. "I _asked_, didn't I?"

Hermione shot him a displeased look before looking a Draco. "Sorry," she said. "Draco, could you go in the living room?"

Draco eyed Harry in annoyance. If Hermione had asked first there would have been a seventy percent chance he'd listen and a thirty percent chance he'd hang around just to bother her. But since it had been Harry bloody Potter who had told him to leave, it should have been one hundred percent certain that he would bloody well be staying. So what was a Malfoy to do?

"I think I'd much rather stay here actually," he said. "This seems interesting."

"Draco, please," Hermione said. "Really."

"Fine," he conceded. She smiled at him apologetically as he went into the living room.

Hermione stared at Harry expectantly for a moment. When he didn't say anything she shrugged slightly and returned her attention to the bowl in her hands, turning it over and letting the bubbles wash away. She contemplated asking Harry what he had wanted to talk about but decided against. If he wanted to know something he could ask himself.

Harry dried the bowl and then put the dish towel aside as it had gotten too wet. He pulled out his wand and began to dry the dishes magically. "Hermione," he started, "are you and Draco…together?" His voice was careful, hesitant in case she snapped at him for suggesting anything.

"No," she said.

Had it been Ron, that 'no' would have been the end of it. No. But Harry was more observant than that. He took note of how her simple 'no' wasn't so simple; it wasn't followed by the defensive 'we're just friends'.

"But there is something going on between you two," Harry said, hardly a hint of doubt in his voice.

Hermione blushed and nodded. "I think so."

"Well," Harry said, drying the last dish as Hermione dried her hands and leaned back against the counter. "Glad Draco finally found some sense. I hope he knows how lucky he is."

Hermione smiled up at Harry, her arms wide open for a hug. He embraced her, resting his chin atop her head and rocking from foot to foot whilst singing terribly, "Hermione and Malfoy, sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G." He paused. "I don't recall the rest of that." Hermione looked up at him with a joking glare.

"How incredibly mature," she said dryly.

Harry shrugged as he released her. "I'm not the one who's been playing hide and go seek with their feelings and one Draco Malfoy."

"Shut it."

* * *

"So, about the bookshop," Hermione began.

Draco gave her an overly shocked look. "I thought that was tabooed," he commented as he popped a grape into his mouth.

"Be serious, Draco," she said.

"I am serious," he insisted. "I was under the impression I'd be hexed if I ever brought it up again."

"Well you're not," she assured, "so can we talk about this?"

"Alright." Draco nodded. "Lead on." He fixed Juliet on her padded blanket on the floor. The little girl was lying on her tummy, something Estelle had been doing with her frequently for the last few months, to ensure... well, something Draco was sure. Draco stretched out as Hermione took a sip of her water. Draco turned onto his stomach and levelled his face with Juliet's. "Hello Darling," he grinned at her and she laughed. He pulled a face and stuck out his tongue and Juliet laughed some more whilst her small hands bounced up and down on the blanket in joy.

"I'd really like to run the bookshop," Hermione told him; not minding in the least that he wasn't facing her. She knew she had his attention anyhow. "But I can't accept something this…grand as a gift. It isn't right and I'm sure eventually it would just cause too many problems…So, I was hoping you'd let me run the shop and, you know, over time I'll pay you back."

"And how exactly is that a gift, then?" Draco asked.

"Well, you'd be starting me off," Hermione said, "and giving me your brilliant idea of the shop in the first place."

"You have trouble accepting a necklace as a present," Draco said, twisting to give her an incredulous look, "but an idea, that's an acceptable present?" He shook his head and returned to his position, facing Juliet. He tapped her nose lightly and puffed out his cheeks to amuse her. It worked.

"Draco, I wouldn't feel right about it otherwise."

"Well no," Draco said. "I'm not letting you ruin my present; I worked very hard on it."

"Draco," she complained.

"No," he repeated, and Hermione frowned despite the happy tone in his voice as he grinned at Juliet.

"I can't just…" Hermione trailed off sadly. "What if you gave me a starting of 500 galleons?"

He considered this. "What if I pay for fifty-percent?"

"That's way too much."

"No it's not."

"How about twenty-five percent of the books?" she suggested.

"How about twenty-five percent of the books and your first year," he said.

"My first year?" Hermione asked.

Draco grabbed Juliet's bear and danced it in front of her. She squealed with delight and reached to grab it from him. "Yeah," he said. "If you want to gradually pay me back, then we'll divide it all over, what? Five years?"

"Sure," Hermione agreed carefully.

"So then I'll get you started with a fifth of that," he told her.

"No," she began to protest.

"No," he said right back. "One fifth. One year. As it's your twenty-fourth birthday present I think I should be allowed to take care of it for your entire twenty-fourth year, yes?"

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"No?"

"Yes."

"Good." Draco nodded. "Glad we agree."

Hermione threw her hands up. "I said no!"

Draco put the bear down a little ways away beside Juliet. He turned to face Hermione. "I said yes," he told her.

"Well then that settles it then," she said sarcastically.

"You know, why won't you just let me do this?"

"Because it isn't fair," she insisted.

"What isn't fair?" he asked.

"I just…" She looked down at her hands as she thought it all over.

Draco leaned forward and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. He gave her an imploring smile, his knuckles skimming down the side of her face. The feather light touch made Hermione look up and blush at the tingles and warmth that spread through her cheeks. His hand continued to the back of her neck and his thumb stroked back and forth on the sensitive skin beneath her ear. "Please," he said. "Say yes, lovely."

"Fine," she relented. "But I want it in writing."

"We'll work on that," he said.

"Then I'll hand in my two weeks notice next Monday and we can have an official opening next month."

"Really?"

"Yes, I think that—oh my Merlin!" Hermione exclaimed. Draco whipped around to see what she was looking at. Juliet was lying on her back. "She just rolled over!" Hermione screamed. "That's the first time she's rolled over! That's a first! It's a first, isn't it? That's the first time?"

"She just—what?" Draco asked, staring at his daughter as if she was an enigma.

"She just rolled over," Hermione repeated.

Draco looked crestfallen. "I missed it."

"Oh." She winced slightly and looked at Juliet. "She'll do it again. I mean, I didn't even _really_ see her _roll_. But…" Hermione moved Juliet's bear to the side once more and saw the little girl turn her head to follow where it was going. "Come on, sweetie," she coaxed. "Come on."

Juliet reached for the bear and stretched when she couldn't reach it. She shrieked and then turned onto her tummy to get hold of the bear.

"Holy—" Draco stopped himself. "Wow," he said instead. "She's marvelous." He went to pick her up.

"Don't pick her up!" Hermione said. "She might do it again."

Draco scooped the baby girl into his arms anyway and laid her on his chest. He leaned from one side to the other and gently rolled Juliet back and forth. He kissed the top of her head. "You're marvelous!" he told her. Draco rolled a little too quickly and Juliet began to cry.

Hermione heaved a dramatic sigh. "_What_ did I tell you?" she said. She plucked Juliet from Draco and shook her head at him. She stood up and rocked the little girl with ease, quietening her down in just moments. Draco watched, trying to figure out just what it was that she did differently than him. Sure, he could stop Juliet's cries, but not that fast and not with so little effort. He couldn't pinpoint anything except for that she was female. He was not. And therefore he was not a mother and never would be. Oh well.

Draco jumped up from his spot on the floor. "Are you hungry?" he asked Hermione.

"You're hungry?" Hermione asked. "We ate a late lunch just…" She checked her watch.

"Almost six hours ago," he supplied.

Hermione frowned. He was right. This was the problem with Sunday brunch, it threw the whole three square meals rule off balance. A late breakfast meant either a late lunch or snack midday and a late dinner or no dinner at all. She often forgot to eat until much later in the day, practically right before she went to bed.

"Oh," she said. "I could go for something." Juliet wrapped a hand around one of Hermione's curls and tugged. Hermione carefully extracted her hair from the little girl's grasp and laughed. "Gentle, Julie."

"Pasta?" Draco suggested. "The elves make the best penne. It's delicious."

"Sure." Hermione nodded. "But I should get home in the next hour or so," she said. "I've got to get to work in the morning."

"Right," Draco agreed. "You still take that place seriously."

"Hey," she protested, "I haven't quit yet, and until I do I will continue to do my best work there."

"Of course," Draco said to placate her. The sarcastic tone sort of ruined the effect however. Hermione sighed and shook her head at him but followed him to the kitchen anyway, Juliet on her hip.

The elves started preparing the pasta the moment it was requested and Hermione took a seat at the circular table there, it was much smaller than the dining room table, but was homier with the smaller distance from chair to chair and lack of empty space. She was playing with Juliet holding the little girl's hand while singing, "Round and round the garden, like teddy bear," and tracing circles on Juliet's palm with her index finger. She walked her fingers up the baby's small arms. "One step, two step, tickle you under there!" Juliet laughed as Hermione tickled her and Hermione laughed with her.

Draco couldn't help but grin at the pair.

"Draco," Hermione started suddenly, "where's Estelle?"

"Oh," he said, "I didn't tell you? I asked her to take the weekend off."

"Really?" Hermione commented.

"Yeah," he said. "I wanted to see how the weekend would go without any help." At Hermione's raised eyebrow he rolled his eyes. "You don't count as help anymore," he told her. "I expect you to be sticking around, therefore I'm allowed to rely on you."

"Are you now?"

"Yes."

Yip brought them two dishes of pasta and they thanked her before digging in.

After dinner Hermione stuck round to help get Juliet cleaned up and in bed, the latter being the more difficult of the tasks as she decided to throw a fit and cry for over an hour. They tried rocking her, singing to her, swaddling her up, and just laying her in her crib with her mobile spinning around, but none of it seemed to do any good. An hour came and passed and Juliet was turning blue.

Draco was quick to grow impatient; anything more than ten minutes and he was frustrated and out of ideas. But Hermione was usually the one who either calmed the baby down quickly and effectively or managed to last hours using different ideas until something worked.

"Now what?" Draco asked as Juliet seemed unaffected by the white noise of the running water and continued to wail at the tops of her lungs.

Hermione was tired. "I don't know!" she cried. "Where's her bear?"

"She threw it," Draco replied. "I don't know where—"

"_Accio_ bear," Hermione conducted exasperatedly. The teddy bear came whizzing her way and she handed it to Juliet, but the girl had no interest in it. The screams emanating from her did not cease. "Sing to her," Hermione instructed.

"We've tried that," Draco snapped.

"Don't get ups—" Hermione began to defend, not liking his tone.

"Sorry," he said. "Look, even if I did I don't think music would help right now. You can't hear anything over her bloody screams."

"I just…" Hermione went into the nursery and sat down in the rocking chair, the screaming child in her arms. She rocked back and forth almost robotically. "What else is there? I feel like we've tried everything. She doesn't want a pacifier, or her blanket or her bear. She doesn't need to be changed or fed. She needs sleep but she refuses to—" The curly haired witch was abruptly cut off by a louder, piercing cry from the girl in her arms. She felt like her eardrums were about to burst, her mind was about to crash, and her heart about to break. There had to be something she could do.

"I can hardly hear myself think," Draco muttered.

"Oh my Merlin." Hermione jumped up.

"Where are you going?" he yelled over the crying.

"Come with me."

He followed her out of the room and down the corridor, and then continued to trail after her down the stairs and down the corridor to the ballroom. She stood in front of the large doors, unable to open them since her one arm was occupied, holding Juliet. She gave Draco a pointed look and he stopped wondering just where she was going with this for a moment to rush forward and open the doors for them.

Hermione went inside, not even taking the time to thank him for getting the door, and strode over to the grand piano. "Play something," she demanded.

"What?" Draco asked.

"Play something," she repeated louder.

He sat down at the bench and played out a melody he knew off by heart, something he had composed himself quite a while ago. Juliet continued to cry.

"That's not loud enough!" Hermione shouted. "Would you—" She reached over and hit one of the keys, letting it ring out loudly.

Draco nodded and started the melody over, hitting the keys with more force now so that they nearly overpowered the cries of Juliet. There was a pause when only the piano was heard as the little girl stopped to breathe.

Draco continued to play and Hermione began to recognize the tune as something she had heard him play before. Juliet's cries continued but slowly quieted as she turned her attention to the music.

Draco played just a tad softer, not wanting to upset his daughter when she was just starting to calm down. Juliet was soon reduced to whimpering as Draco continued to play.

"Oh thank heavens," Hermione breathed out quietly.

Draco paused to sigh and relief and Hermione's eyes widened as she shook her head. "Don't you dare stop playing," she said. "Not until she's asleep."

Draco was playing that piano for a good twenty minutes before she deemed it safe to stop and take Juliet back to the nursery. They tucked her in and kissed her goodnight and prayed to the heavens that she'd remain asleep until morning. They were both drained.

"Thank you," Draco said whispered as he partially closed the door and moved down the corridor.

"For what?" Hermione asked.

"Your help," he told her. "I know you were planning on heading out a while ago."

"My help?" Hermione repeated. "I'm sorry Draco, this is me; you're stuck with me. It's no longer help."

He smiled at her. "Fine by me."

Hermione paused. "Draco," she said hesitantly, "can I just stay the night here? Apparating seems like a lot of effort right now and I'm just too tired." She tried to gauge his reaction.

He cleared his throat. "Sure," he said.

"Thank you." She gave him a smile. He looked at her jeans and long-sleeved shirt and nodded towards his room.

"I'll see if I can find something for you to wear."

He rifled through his closet for a while, Hermione waiting patiently on the edge of his bed. He emerged holding two items. The first was an old Falmouth Falcons t-shirt, their motto scripted across the back, and the second was a pair sweat pants.

"I think these might fit," Draco said.

Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"Well this," Draco held up the shirt, "is from third year, and these," Draco held up the pants, "I haven't worn since fifth year. They might be a little long."

"Alright." Hermione changed in the en suite bathroom and came out in the supplied clothes. The waistband of the pants had been rolled once or twice since the drawstring was missing, and the shirt hugged her and rode up a bit, but it was comfy. As she tugged the hem of the shirt down Draco eyed her appraisingly.

"Well," he said, "they never looked like that on me."

"'Thank Merlin," she joked.

Draco had already gotten into his own pyjamas and as he pulled back his covers he turned to Hermione. "You getting in?" he asked.

Her eyes widened. "I'm not sleeping in the guest room?"

"I wasn't planning on it." He smirked.

"Oh," she said, blushing and staring at her toes.

"Hermione," Draco got into bed, "you already know how I feel about you, so I'm just going to go ahead and tell you that it kills me knowing you're in the staying in the manor and I don't get you right beside me. But feel free to take the guest room." He waved the issue away and lay down.

"No… funny business," she said, but there was a hint of a question to it.

"No sex you mean?"

She shot him a look. "Yes."

"Damn," he muttered as he rolled over to look at her, "and I was hoping to get lucky." The grin he wore let her know he was joking and so she took this as an answer and slipped into the sheets.

The second she had settled and gotten comfortable, Draco wrapped and arm around her waist and pulled her against him. "Hey," Hermione mumbled, "no funny business."

"What's wrong with this?" he asked.

"Spooning is…intimate," she told him, twisting to look at him.

"Is that what this is?"

"Draco, I'm too tired to argue. Besides, in what world are you the cuddling type?"

"Let me sleep and we'll find out."

"Draco."

"Fine." He moved away from her and to his side of the bed.

"Draco."

"What now?" he grumbled.

Suddenly he felt Hermione scoot over towards him and slide her arm across his torso. She nudged his arm until he moved it and then put her head on his shoulder, curling against his side. "This is okay?" he asked, his eyes remaining closed.

"This is okay," she confirmed with a yawn.

And then they fell asleep.


	25. Chapter 25

Hermione pulled opened the last drawer of her desk and pulled out the rolls of blank parchment, quills, inkwell, pack of Droobles and notebook that were in there. She carefully put them all in the small box on her desk that she had placed an extension charm on just earlier that morning. She spotted a pen that had managed to escape her desk and bent down to pick it up, tossing it in the box.

That was the last of it.

She looked about her empty office.

She had worked there for three years in that office. She'd spent countless hours in that chair, reading and writing countless reports, scheduling countless meetings, dealing with countless people. And this was the end. Her last job at the ministry, she swore. The only sound in the empty office was the slow tick of the gold-rimmed clock on the wall, something Hermione had brought in herself but decided against taking with her. She thought she'd leave something for the person who would soon take her place. Besides, she'd always hated that _tick_ it made with each passing second.

On a slow day the sound was infuriating, reminding her how much time she was just _wasting _and on days where there seemed to be too much to do it was taunting. _Tick_, you've spent fifty-two seconds trying to figure out what this means, _tick,_ you've been here a whole extra hour now, _tick,_ you have two minutes and four seconds before you absolutely have to be at that meeting.

It drove her insane but she had never been able to bring herself to just get rid of the damn thing. Leaving it behind seemed to solve the problem quite nicely.

Hermione picked up her box with a bit of effort and left her office. "Alright, Anna," she said as she shut the door behind her. "This is it."

Anna looked up. "Are you sure you want to leave?" she asked hopefully. "They'd hire you back in second you know."

"No thank you," Hermione said. "Besides, what would happen to the poor sap who's already accepted the position?"

"Oh, let's not worry about him," Anna said.

Hermione grinned at her. Out of the three years she had worked there, Anna had been her assistant almost two years. She wasn't very close with the girl, but they were on more than good terms and they had gone out for coffee after work on more than one occasion. Anna liked working for Hermione.

"I'll miss you," Anna said. "And I'll miss how you always attracted Draco Malfoy over here around lunchtime."

Hermione laughed.

"But really," Anna continued, "I will miss you. You're a good boss. To be honest, I'm a little frightened of whoever is replacing you. They haven't told me a thing about them."

"Oh," Hermione said. "Well, from what I hear, _he's_ quite the looker. Maybe you won't be missing Draco, I mean me, so much after all."

"I hope so." Anna nodded with a smile.

"The sooner I get out of here, the sooner he arrives," Hermione told her. "It was nice working with you, Anna."

"Can I get a hug?" Anna asked, standing up and holding out her arms for her, as of now, former boss.

"Of course." Hermione embraced the girl and gave her a broad smile. "Well, I'm off," she announced. "You'll come by the shop sometime, yeah?"

"Definitely," Anna affirmed.

"Good, I'll hold you to that." With a final wave Hermione picked up her box and walked away, heading through the corridors to the lifts.

The lift opened to reveal none other than Draco Malfoy.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"I came to make sure you'd follow through," he told her, gesturing for her to join him in the lift.

She stepped into the space beside him and pressed the button. The doors closed and the lift began to move. "You had no reason to worry," she said.

"What's that?" He pointed to the box in her hands, leaning over to see inside.

"I had to pack up my office," she told him. "This is all my stuff." At his surprised look she looked at him questioningly. "Didn't you pack up _your_ office?"

"You mean my quill, inkwell, and file folder?" he asked. "Nah, I left those for Langley." He sighed. "Oh, and Langley, he was a whole other problem packing up. Practically begged me to take him with me."

"He seemed fine when I saw him earlier," Hermione commented.

"Good for him."

"Where to for lunch?" she asked.

"I thought we'd celebrate," he said.

"Oh? And how so?"

"I little wining," he shrugged, "a little dining."

She laughed. "Where?"

"In your shop," he told her.

They stepped out of the elevator and Hermione looked between the doors and the floo. "Are we apparating or flooing?"

"The back room is already connected to the floo network," he told her.

She frowned. "Fine. Floo it is."

They arrived in the back room of the shop and Hermione looked around. It was set up as an office; a light-coloured wood desk was the main piece with an old looking chair situated behind it to match. There was a lamp in the corner and a filing cabinet off to the side, and the fireplace made the small room look warm and comfortable along with a loveseat and bookshelf against the wall.

"This is nice," she appraised.

"Glad you like it." He took her hand and led her out of the office and into the open space of the shop. He had asked Mitzy to set up lunch for them and he nodded at her work. She had really outdone herself. He'd have to thank her later.

The table was set up in the middle of the shop, a white tablecloth draped over it, a bottle of wine and two glasses set upon it and a number of saucer-sized plates with silver, dome-shaped plate covers over them. Hermione smiled at the sight.

"This is lovely," she said, sitting down and reaching for the wine.

Draco took it from her grasp and picked up the corkscrew from the table. "Someone's eager," he said. "Was work really that bad?"

"Shut up," she said.

The cork came out with a _pop_ and Draco poured the wine. Before Hermione could take a sip he took out a roll of parchment and slid it towards her. She gave him an inquiring look before unrolling it to reveal a contract. "Oh," she said. She didn't move to get a quill but instead began to read the contract, taking her time and thinking over each term. "Draco!" she exclaimed, as she finished the second paragraph. "This isn't what we agreed on. This says you're just _giving_ me the shop."

"Really?" He put on a perplexed expression.

"Yes," she said with slight annoyance. She held out a hand.

"Luckily," Draco said, "I had this one drawn up in case that didn't work." He handed her another roll of parchment and she gave him a falsely sweet smile.

"Thanks." She read it over twice, processing everything before nodding solidly. She summoned a pen and signed it with a flourish. She handed it over to Draco and he summoned himself a quill and inkwell. He wrote his name beside the x beneath Hermione's, his signature noticeably more jagged and sharp than hers but respectable all the same.

"There," he said finally. He dropped the contract off to the side and the lifted his glass. "To a new...chapter," he said with a smirk.

"Oh, that was terrible," she laughed as they clinked glasses and sipped wine.

She reached for one of the plates to see what it was but Draco quickly stopped her. He explained that the house elves had charmed them to enlarge to their regular size when the covers were removed and that they were to work from the outside towards the middle of the six plates in the line. They started with a garden salad and good conversation and then moved on to sea bass and risotto that was just…well there were no words to describe it.

"I can't eat any more," Hermione declared as she pushed her dessert plate aside. She hadn't even taken a bite of the crème brulee. She stared at the dessert longingly, but knew that if she tried to eat it she'd just feel sick. She frowned sadly.

Draco chuckled at her and offered her a spoonful of his crème brulee to taste. She accepted with a smile and sighed. "Thank you."

"You are a sad sight," he told her.

"I'm full," she said.

"It's delicious," he taunted.

"I know." She sighed. "But I shouldn't eat any more. Harry, Ginny, James and Ron are coming over for dinner tonight."

Draco scowled at that. "Why?"

"Draco," she cautioned.

"Sorry. Habit."

"Right," she said. She stood up and tucked in her chair, tugging his hand to have him stand as well. "Come on. We're going on a walk."

He stood up without question and quickly flicked his wand at the table, stacking the plates neatly before following Hermione out the door. She pulled him down the street before slowing down and walking leisurely. Draco slowed down considerably so she could keep up with his longer strides.

"So," Draco said, "what are you making for dinner?"

"Lasagne," she replied, "garlic bread, roasted potatoes, and vegetables."

He laughed.

"What?" she demanded.

"You're going to cook all that?" he asked.

"Yes," she said, looking offended. "Why?"

"You can't cook," he said.

"I can, too!" She dropped his hand and crossed her arms. "You've seen me cook."

"How do you think I know you can't?"

"Hey!" He gave her a look. "Well I can cook easy things," she said. "Lasagne is easy. And if I have the proper recipe I can whip up decent meals. It's just that sometimes the recipes aren't specific enough. Vague doesn't work for me."

"Alright." He nodded.

"Well, let's see you cook!" she challenged. "Oh, that's right, you've never cooked a day in your life. So what do you know?"

"Enough," he told her easily. She glared at him. "Okay," he began to amend, "I'm not saying you _can't_ cook, I'm just saying—"

"I get what you're saying," she told him with a laugh. "It's okay. I can still cook better than you, and so longs as it remains that way I'm perfectly happy with my cooking abilities. You know, with them being better than yours and all."

"Ha," he said dryly. "Watch what you say. I might just learn how to cook."

"Of course."

"It'd give me the chance to be better than you," Draco told her with a slightly lopsided-grin. Hermione glanced at him and couldn't help but find his expression…well…sexy.

"Do you resent me for my talents?" she asked in amusement.

He shrugged. "No." His eyebrows lifted suggestively. "I have many talents of my own."

She shook her head at him but didn't fight the smile pulling at her lips. "Sure, Draco."

Draco's step halted for a moment and he looked at Hermione. "Are we allowed to go on a date?" he asked.

"What?" Hermione questioned in shock, her eyes widening at his abruptness.

"A date," he said, "with our…_relationship_ is that allowed?"

She paused. "I don't…I mean…"

"Why not?"

"Well, I didn't say no…" she trailed off unsurely.

"You're right," he agreed, "you didn't quite get around to it yet. Shall I let you finish?" When she didn't say anything he continued. "But honestly, why not? We go out to lunch practically every day and have dinner at least several times a week. Wouldn't it be the same except elsewhere? In public?"

"No," she said. "Lunch is casual. Friends go out to lunch all the time and joining each other for dinner at home is the same way."

"Friends don't go out to dinner then?"

"If they do, they certainly don't call it a date."

"What is a date?" he asked.

"Draco," she looked at him as if he were slowly going mad, "what are you on about now?"

"It's a genuine question," he told her.

"I don't know," she said. "A date is…when two people go out with the intent of romance."

"Would the definition of a date not be any sort of planned occasion with another person?"

"Well if you were just going to spout off your own definition then why ask me?" Hermione huffed in exasperation. She sighed. "I don't think we should go on a date," she said. "Going out in that way will just lead to other things. More complicated things."

"It doesn't have to lead to other things," he pointed out. Her expression looked sad but resolute. "It doesn't have to be a big deal."

"Then why are you trying so hard to make me agree?"

He immediately cooled down at the words 'trying so hard'. He wasn't going to be one of those pathetic and desperate blokes who had to _try_, as if it were an extremely difficult _task_, to get a girl on a date with them. He wasn't going to press any further. "I'm not," he told her. "It was just a hypothetical."

"It didn't sound hypothetical."

He shook his head. "Don't worry about it."

* * *

Hermione finished writing the ad for the prophet and proof-read it a few times. She couldn't find any mistakes and, while she doubted there _were_ any mistakes to be found, she wished Anna was around to give it a quick read-over as well. But Hermione was alone in the store office, getting ready to send the advertisement off to The Daily Prophet to be printed in tomorrow and every day following that for a week's paper. It was just to get the name of "Granger Book Corner" out there before the grand opening next Saturday, the Saturday after the ball that is. Ginny had pulled a few strings with her other journalist friends from work to get Hermione a good deal with the advertisement.

Hermione sent the advertisement off, the third copy she had written (taking the time to make sure her penmanship was impeccable and perfect), and then she went out into the shop to rearrange the last three shelves of books. She had spent the last two days working towards having all of the books organized first by topic and then alphabetically by author's surname. Her arms were aching from the days of holding the heavy books while reaching up to re-shelve each individual book.

It was two hours later when Hermione shelved the last book and heaved a long sigh. Her arms felt like they had tight rubber bands in place of her muscles yet weirdly light. She was tired and achy and kicking back in one of the armchairs by the fireplace seemed like the best idea she'd had in months. So she did. Her eyes closed involuntarily and she allowed them to stay shut until she heard the bell over the door tinkle rather loudly in the silence.

"Draco," she started, "you have no idea—"

"I'm sure he doesn't," a more feminine voice interrupted. Hermione sat up and leaned around the back of her chair to see her company.

"Ginny?"

"That would be me," Ginny agreed.

"Ginny," she said, "what are you doing here?"

The redheaded Potter gave Hermione a smile and took the chair opposite her. "Well thank you for the welcome. Harry said I'd find you here," Ginny said. She looked around. "Wow," she commented, "this is quite the place Malfoy put together."

"No kidding," Hermione replied, admiring the place once again.

"Well," Ginny said, "I actually came by to make sure you're coming to the Burrow tomorrow. It's Mum's birthday and I wasn't sure if any of the boys remembered to invite you."

"George told me about it earlier this week," Hermione said.

"When did you see George?" Ginny asked.

"We grabbed lunch together the other day," Hermione explained. "I ran into him as he was leaving the joke shop."

"Oh yeah." Ginny nodded. "I guess you two work pretty closely down."

"Just down the street." Hermione grinned.

"I also wanted to ask you about this ball…"

"Ball?"

"Blaise Zabini's Halloween Ball."

"Oh," Hermione said in realization.

"Oh?" Ginny repeated. "Hermione, why didn't you tell me you were going to a _ball_?" Ginny demanded.

"It didn't seem important," she said.

"You know these things are really extravagant, right?" Ginny asked. "I mean, what are you wearing?"

"A gown," Hermione replied. "And a mask. It's a masquerade. And how did you find out about it anyway?"

"Clara was telling me all about her gown this morning," Ginny explained. "She mentioned that Malfoy was going to be there and she was out to impress, and then I remembered you said that you had important plans with Malfoy this Wednesday. What other important events would be planned on a _Wednesday_?" Hermione opened her mouth to say something but Ginny blathered on. "So what does _your_ gown look like? And how are you wearing your hair? I can't believe you're going to a _ball_."

"I'll show you my gown some other time," Hermione responded. "And I don't know how I'm doing my hair."

"Hermione!" Ginny exclaimed. "The ball is in two days isn't it?"

"Yes."

"And you don't know how you're styling your hair? And what about your nails? Your makeup? Shoes?" Ginny gasped. "You broke your heels at Luna's wedding. What are you going to wear? No colour-changing spell is going to repair that splintered heel and make it match your gown. Whatever the hell it looks like."

"Shoes?" Hermione said. "I didn't really think about shoes yet."

"Okay, what time is the ball at?"

"Seven, I believe," Hermione said.

"Bring your gown and makeup to our place at about five then," Ginny instructed. "You can borrow a pair of heels and I'll help you with your hair and makeup."

"Er…Draco's picking me up at my place to go to the ball."

"So this is a date then?"

"No."

"But he asked you to go with him. And he's picking you up."

"A platonic date," Hermione corrected.

"Whatever you say." Ginny nodded. "I'll send you back to your flat before seven. Just make sure you're at our place for five at the latest."

"Okay."

"Good." Ginny stood. "And I'll see you tomorrow then?"

"Definitely. Oh, and I got your mum a bracelet for her birthday. Does that sound alright?"

"You're practically her second favourite daughter, Hermione," Ginny said. "You could give her a paper bag and she'd love it to bits."

"Okay," Hermione said, assured. "At the Burrow for six then?"

"Yep."

"I'll be there."

* * *

"Oi! Draco!"

"Master Draco," Yip said, "Mister Zabini is here to see you."

"So I heard," Draco replied. "Where is he?"

"Right here," Blaise declared. "Thanks Yip, but there's no need to announce me."

Draco laughed and Blaise looked surprised. "You're in a good mood," he commented.

"Am I?" Draco asked.

"It appears so," Blaise replied warily. "What's going on?"

"Elves just finished my tux," Draco explained.

"For the ball? My ball?" Blaise asked. Draco confirmed this with a nod. "You're excited about my ball?"

"No," Draco said with a tint of disdain. He seemed lighter as he continued, "I am looking forward to my date though."

"Date? You mean Granger?" Blaise's eyebrows rose considerably at this. "You two together yet?"

"No," Draco grumbled.

"Why?" Blaise asked as they began to head for the sitting room. "What happened to that Malfoy Charm?"

"It's a little difficult when she won't go on a proper date with me," Draco said. "Which is why your ball is so key. By the way, have _you_ a date for your ball?"

"No." Blaise seemed to take pride in this as he grinned. "And I made sure to invite many single witches to compensate."

"Of course."

They sat down on the couches, facing each other across the coffee table. "Going to offer me a drink mate?" Blaise asked.

"No. You're not staying long."

"So what's this about Granger not wanting to go on a date with you?"

"Just that."

"Why not, mate? You've been labelled platonic now?"

"Nothing platonic about it."

"You want a drink to soothe the pain?" Blaise offered with a smirk. He didn't wait for an answer as he called Kobs and asked for an old-fashioned cocktail. Kobs turned to Draco to take any requests.

"Butterbeer," he said. "Chilled please."

"Yes, Master Draco," Kobs said before apparating away.

"I can't go on a date with her because apparently dates lead to complicated things," Draco told Blaise with a somewhat tired expression.

"I hardly find shagging complicated anymore." Blaise shrugged with a smirk.

Draco laughed despite himself and shook his head. "Forget shagging. I just want a date. Maybe a good snogging."

"So then take the girl on a date," Blaise told him simply.

Their drinks were brought to them and placed on the coffee table and Draco thanked the little elf before shooting Blaise a sharp look. "Have you not been listening, you arse?" he asked. "She won't let me take her on a date! Due to _possible_ repercussions."

"So don't tell her it's a date." Blaise nodded at his solution and dismissed the problem with a swig of his drink.

"Really," Draco said, "Hermione's a _little_ brighter than the girls you're used to."

"Yes," Blaise admitted. "but she trusts you and considers you a friend. She may question you but you're the damn near best liar I've ever known, besides myself of course, so you can get around that easily."

"So trick her. Lie?" Draco questioned.

"Eh… surprise her," Blaise corrected with a shrug.

"I could do that," Draco agreed. "Easy enough."

"Yeah, Granger's blinded by trust and loyalty and other stupid Gryffindor qualities. Wait until after the ball though," Blaise said. "You don't want to risk anything to ruin the almost-date you already have."

"Right, right." Draco waved it off. "Besides if everything goes as planned on Wednesday then she'll have no choice but to say yes to a date." Draco froze suddenly and Blaise gave him a strange look.

"What's wrong mate?"

Draco held up a hand to shut him up and listened. "Hermione?" he called uncertainly.

The sound of shoes against the marble floors of the corridor was heard before Hermione appeared in the wide doorway of the sitting room. She was clad in a fitted knee-length, red wool skirt and a cream short-sleeved sweater. Even Blaise had to admit that the witch looked rather pretty.

"There you are." Hermione sighed. She noticed the other occupant of the room and a courteous yet genuine smile spread to grace her features. "Hello Blaise," she said. "How are you?"

"Good Granger," Blaise replied with a quick look to Draco. "And you?"

"Quite well," Hermione returned. "I meant to thank you for the invitation," she continued. "To your ball, I mean. It was a very nice gesture even though I am already going with Draco."

Draco looked at Blaise. "You asked Hermione to your ball?" he asked slowly with a practiced calm despite his quick assumptions and the flash of anger that he just barely concealed.

"Yes," Blaise said, restraining from chuckling at his friend's obvious (at least to his careful eye) upset. "I hadn't yet known she had settled to go with you," Blaise told him.

Draco looked at Hermione and then at Blaise. He thought Blaise was just kidding, but then again, he thought, there had been instances back in their younger days when they had both seen a girl and both decided they'd charm her. It didn't matter who had seen her first. They were Slytherins. There were no rules; and even if there had been they would have been completely disregarded. Sometimes they tried to bed the girl simply to spite the other man and give a boost to their own ego. Now that Draco thought on it he realized, not for the first time, how awful their game had been. It was pretty screwed up. And he glared at Blaise angrily as all of this passed through his mind. He wouldn't dare try anything with Hermione though, Draco decided firmly.

Hermione laughed. "Draco," she said, catching the near murderous look he gave Blaise. She thought it was sweet that he was being a little protective. So long as he didn't act on it irrationally of course. "He's just having you on," Hermione said. "He owled me a formal invitation to the ball a few days ago."

"Before I knew you had already invited her as your date," Blaise finished.

Draco relaxed and then gave Blaise an angry look with a new reasoning. He chose to acknowledge neither his misunderstanding nor Blaise's arsehole tendencies but instead turned to Hermione. "What's brought you here?" he asked.

She smiled. "I had a bit of a tiring day," she said. "I needed my Juliet fix."

"Well don't mind me," Draco remarked, "it's only my house and my daughter."

"Good," Hermione quipped, "I won't. So where is the little sweetheart?"

"Just for that, I'm not telling you," Draco said. Blaise watched the exchange between Draco and Hermione with interest. He truly believed they were just wasting their time with this whole 'just friends' arrangement. Or more, Hermione was wasting their time since Draco was completely prepared to dive into a real relationship. But Blaise didn't hold any of this against her; she was far better than any other girls Draco had ever even considered dating. In fact, he'd probably sooner side with Hermione in any sort of argument between the two, one because she'd be more likely to win said argument, and two because he really did respect the girl and he be damned if he sat by and watched Draco muck things up with her and let her go.

"Bye then," Hermione was saying now. Blaise watched her stride out of the room, feeling as though he had missed something.

"She leaving?" he asked Draco when the young woman had disappeared from view.

"She's going to find Juliet you dolt," Draco snapped.

Blaise nodded. "Where is Juliet?"

"With Estelle," Draco said, "in the nursery."

"Well," Blaise downed the rest of his drink, "I'll see you two on Wednesday."

Draco nodded and stayed seated, set to just let Blaise walk himself out but then he hesitated. "You should say goodbye to Hermione."

"What?" Blaise asked. "I hardly ever say goodbye to you even."

Draco shrugged. "You should say hello to Estelle as well."

Remembering how big on manners the older woman was Blaise agreed. "You're right. Lead the way."

Draco took Blaise up to the nursery and quietly opened the door in fear of possibly waking up an already asleep baby. He needn't worry though as he entered the nursery to find Estelle sitting in the rocking chair and Hermione on the floor, Juliet awake on her lap. The little girl was wrapped in a soft pink and white blanket and Hermione was holding a book open in front of them, reading aloud "_The Tale of Peter Rabbit._" Draco smiled at the scene and sat down next to Hermione.

"Hello Mister Zabini," Estelle greeted warmly.

"Good evening," Blaise replied politely.

"Oh, hi, Blaise," Hermione said quietly from her place on the floor before continuing the story.

"Actually, I'm here to say goodbye," Blaise said. "It was nice seeing you, but I was just leaving."

"Oh," Hermione said, taking the time to look up at him. She spoke softly as she could see Juliet slowly beginning to nod off. "I'll see you at your ball then. Thanks again for inviting me."

"No problem," he said. "I'll see you then." He addressed Draco. "See you, mate."

Draco nodded at him in acknowledgement briefly. His attention soon went back to Hermione and Juliet. Blaise watched Draco observe Hermione and Juliet intently and as he was slowly closing the door behind him as he left, he watched his friend slide over to be closer to the pair and wrap an arm around Hermione's back.

Maybe they weren't wasting any time at all.

* * *

**Author's Note: Hello readers, if you're still here of course. I just want to say thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. The ball is up next. Looking forward to it. **

**I don't know how I feel about this replacement to the Review button but as you can see it's no longer there. I'd really appreciate it if you all 'commented' on my story then. Tell me what you think.**

**Anyways,**

**Scarlett**


	26. Chapter 26

Hermione took her gown out of her closet, feeling more excited with each passing second. Of course, she had just gotten out of the shower and she was wearing only her under garments and her dressing robe and her hair was wrapped up in a mint green towel. She packed up all of the makeup she owned in a small toiletry bag and then put on her slippers. She grabbed a bottle of perfume on a whim; something her mother had given her back on her eighteenth birthday. She had always liked the scent and therefore only used it on special occasions, trying to make it last. Tonight seemed special enough.

She collected everything she planned to bring with her and then took her wand, apparating away to the modest yet beautiful house belonging to Mr. and Mrs. Potter. In was located in a small wizarding town so she didn't have to worry about apparating into an alleyway or anything to be hidden from muggles. She appeared right at their front door and was just about to ring the bell when the door flew open and Ginny pulled her inside.

"Finally!" Ginny exclaimed.

"You said be here for five o'clock," Hermione said. She checked the clock on the wall. "It's only four fifty-eight."

"We have a lot of work to do, Hermione, not a second to spare," Ginny said.

"Hermione's here?" Harry's voice sounded from upstairs. "Hermione?"

"Hi Harry!" Hermione called.

"Hermione!" Harry came jogging down the stairs. He gave Hermione a funny look before wrapping her in a hug. "What are you doing here? And what's with the new look?" He gestured at her towel and robe.

"Ginny is helping me get ready for a ball I'm going to," Hermione explained.

"Oh. Zabini's is tonight then, isn't it?" Harry asked.

"Yes." Hermione nodded.

"_Yes_," Ginny stressed, "and we have two hours to get her ready. So, shoo." She waved him away.

"Alright," Harry said. "Fine. I'm in the living room with James if you need me."

"See you, Harry," Hermione called as Ginny led her upstairs.

"Good luck, Hermione!"

They went into the spare bedroom and Ginny conjured a dressing table. "Okay," Ginny said, "sit."

Hermione sat down and placed her toiletry bag on the dresser and Ginny took her dress, still on the hanger and in protective plastic, on the bed. She pulled the dress from the plastic to get a good look at it. "Oh, it's gorgeous." Ginny sighed. "You're so lucky. I'm jealous. You're going to look beautiful."

"Thank you," Hermione replied.

Then Ginny went right to business. She rifled through the makeup Hermione had brought and then went through some of her own before picking out two shades of eye-shadow, an eyeliner, a light blush, two tubes of mascara, and four different shades of lip gloss. Hermione stared at the array in worry.

"Don't you think that's a bit too much?" she asked.

Ginny laughed. "Don't be silly, Hermione. We'll narrow down the lip gloss to just one and the rest will be fine. Trust me." And then she pulled another container from her stores and placed it on the table.

Hermione looked at it. "No," she said. "No. I refuse to _glitter_."

"It will look good. You won't glitter."

"It's called body glitter for a reason, Gin. I don't want to wear it."

"I'm not going to make you sparkly with it," Ginny said. "Just shimmery. It's pretty."

"No."

"We'll see."

Hermione sighed and then followed Ginny's instructions to put on moisturizer and apply her foundation. She did, but even so after she was finished Ginny handed her a cloth and told her to dab.

"Honestly Hermione," she said, "you're the one who said not too much. Do you realize how perfect your complexion is? I'd kill to have your skin."

"Ginny," Hermione said, dabbing away at the excess powder.

"Really," Ginny insisted. "I'd at least be able to tan."

"In England?" Hermione asked. "Unlikely."

"Close your eyes," Ginny told her. Hermione obeyed and only flinched slightly when the tip of the small makeup brush touched her eyelid. "Would you relax?" Ginny snapped. "I'm holding a brush not a wand for goodness' sake."

"Sorry," Hermione apologized.

"Now hold still," Ginny ordered. Hermione tried her best not to react or worry that Ginny would poke her eyes out.

"So," the redhead started, "are you looking forward to the ball?"

"Of course," Hermione replied.

"Good," Ginny said. "Now," she was speaking slowly while trying to dust the shadow onto Hermione's lid, "where is this ball?"

"Blaise's home I'd assume," Hermione said. "I never really thought to ask."

Ginny got to work on Hermione's eye liner. "So, how are things standing between you and Mister Malfoy?"

"Hm?" Hermione asked.

"How are you and Draco?" Ginny repeated.

"Good," Hermione responded quietly.

"Have you—" Ginny started.

Hermione quickly interjected. "Oh," she said, "I forgot, Harry owled me all about James saying his first words."

And of course the easiest way to distract a mother is to get her talking about her children. Ginny was no exception to this. "Oh, you would believe it!" she exclaimed, her questions about Hermione and Draco's relationship instantly forgotten. For the moment anyway. "It was adorable," she continued. "Of course, Harry and I are still waiting for the outcome of our bet. As of now James can say 'tea' and 'bye'."

"That's great," Hermione said.

"I'm secretly coaching him towards 'mama'," Ginny admitted. "Don't tell Harry. Those galleons are mine."

Hermione smiled. "And James is coming close on the walking too?"

"He's on the verge of toddling," Ginny replied. She paused a while as she matched the eye liner on Hermione's right lid to her left. "He can stand very well but once he gets moving he's down."

Hermione tried not to move too much as she laughed. "Well, if he's anything like his parents he'll just keep getting up."

"No kidding," Ginny agreed. "Okay, keep your eyes shut. I'll do your blush. Eyes shut." Hermione began to open her eyes to see what the other girl was doing. "Hermione!" Ginny barked. "Don't open your eyes! You'll smudge!"

"Sorry," Hermione mumbled.

Ginny evened out the blush and then surveyed her work. "Okay. Eyes _shut_. I'm just going to fix your eye shadow and then you can do your mascara. Capiche?"

"Yes ma'am."

"And then the body glitter."

"No," Hermione complained.

"Yes."

"No."

Twenty minutes later, after a relatively long argument over glitter, Hermione's makeup was fixed and finished and she shimmered prettily when the light hit her. She eyed herself in the mirror carefully. It still looked like her. But her eyes now stood out greatly, looking dramatic with a tint of silver highlighting them. The entire look managed to appear sophisticated as well.

"Now, your dress." Ginny pulled it from the garment bag in excitement. She froze. "Hermione," she said slowly, "does this dress go over your head?"

Hermione suddenly realized the problem she had created. She winced. "Yes."

"Hermione!" Ginny yelled. "Why didn't you tell me _before_ we did your makeup?"

"I didn't think ahead," Hermione said. "Sorry. There must be a way to put it on without smudging my makeup on the dress."

Ginny looked at the skirt. There were too many layers to even _attempt _to get Hermione into it without it brushing her face. "Okay," Hermione said. "No worries. I can just put it on and touch up my makeup after and clean the dress."

"No!" Ginny screamed. "No, you can't. That's not how it works. That could ruin everything."

Ginny checked the time. "Hermione, you have just over an hour before we need to get you back to your flat and we haven't even _begun_ on your hair. We need to get you in your dress."

Hermione let out a frustrated scream and went to tug her hair only to realize that it was still twisted up in her towel. Harry appeared in the doorway with James on his shoulders. "Is everything okay?" he asked.

"It's fine, Harry," Hermione said.

"No," Ginny contradicted. "I did Hermione's makeup but her dress has to go over her head!"

"Hermione, you look great," Harry complimented.

"Thank you." She smiled.

"Oy!" Ginny snapped their attention back to her. "What are we going to do? There must be a spell or something…"

"For my face?" Hermione asked. "Let's not."

Harry looked puzzled. James was making various humming sounds. "I don't think I quite understand the problem here," Harry said.

"Her makeup will smudge on the dress if she tries to put the dress on," Ginny explained impatiently.

"Ah." Harry looked at the dress laid out on the bed. "Really?"

"Yes, really," Ginny snapped.

"Calm down," Hermione said with a deep breath.

"Oh come on," Harry said. "There must be a way. Aren't there wedding dresses that are…more complicated?"

"Yes." Hermione heaved a sigh and shook her head. "But I'm sure those brides have thought it through far enough to do their hair and makeup _after_ they've put on their dresses."

"When I had my wedding I planned everything down to what order I would put on my veil and jewelry." Ginny ran a hand through her hair. "Damn it Hermione, why didn't you think this through?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I'm sorry."

"Why not a veil?" Harry suggested. "You know, put it on her when she puts on the dress, nothing important gets smudged and it's light enough that it won't smudge her makeup."

"There's an idea," Hermione said. "Great." She conjured a scarf and Ginny draped it over her head and got the dress ready.

Harry laughed as he watched them navigate the skirt. Hermione lifted her arms and Ginny fitted it over her head and the towel and the scarf very carefully.

"Shut it," Hermione said in response to Harry's chuckling. Her usually intimidating order's effect was lessened by the dress muffling the sound and her struggling with the dress. Hermione suddenly became aware of the fact that she was only in her underwear and not yet in her dress. Harry was still in the room. "Harry!" she shrieked. "Turn around!"

"Wha—Oh!" he yelped. "Sorry! I wasn't looking!"

"Merlin's beard, just turn around, Harry!" Ginny shouted.

Hermione relaxed as she took the scarf off, finally in her gown. "Okay," she said. "All is good."

"Alright!" Ginny clapped her hands together. "Time to start your hair. Where is the Sleekeazy?"

Hermione unwrapped the towel from her hair and _accio_-ed the hair potion. "Okay," she said. "Have at it, then."

Ginny seemed to examine Hermione's mess of curls for a moment before deciding that her work really was cut out for her. "Okay," she said and then proceeded to all but douse Hermione's hair with the potion.

An hour later and Hermione's hair was pulled back in an elegantly curly bun at the nape of her neck. It looked sleek, just as the product had promised, and she had a couple of soft, stray curls completing it all by framing her face. And her gown was just perfect.

Hermione packed up her makeup and picked up the shoes Ginny had lent her. "Thank you so much, Gin," Hermione said.

"Put the shoes on, you have ten minutes," Ginny told her, looking a little frazzled.

Hermione sat down on the bed so as not to lose her balance and put on the shoes. She picked up her mask and held it up to her face.

"No, no, no," Ginny all but screamed. She saw the elastic that held the mask to her face and frowned. She took the mask from Hermione's hands and got rid of the elastic, transfiguring a dark blue stick from the mask so it had to be held up to her face. "Did we not just solve a fiasco about smudging your makeup?" she asked.

"Right." Hermione nodded. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," Ginny replied. "Five minutes."

"Okay."

Ginny counted off on her fingers. "Makeup, dress, hair, shoes…bag. Do you have a handbag to match or do we need—"

"No, I have one," Hermione assured. "Thank you so much. I'm going to say goodbye to Harry and then I'll head out."

"No time," Ginny said. "You have to be there when Draco comes to get you. You have to see the look on his face the second he walks through that door."

"Well, actually the wards let him in so I don't think he needs to use the door," Hermione said. She caught Ginny's look and she quickly added, "But I shouldn't keep him waiting. I should be on time."

"Exactly. Now, forget Harry, get moving!"

"Bye Harry! Bye James!" Hermione called down the stairs before grabbing her wand and preparing to apparate. Ginny got hold of her arm and quickly announced she was going with her. Hermione didn't feel the need to fight her on it and instead just apparated straight to her flat.

The second they got their bearings Ginny was checking that Hermione's hair had stayed in place. Once satisfied that it had, not a hair out of place, she sighed and gave Hermione a wide smile. "Hermione, you look brilliant. He's going to find you irresistible."

"Thanks Ginny."

"You're welcome. Now get your bag together and sit pretty while you wait."

"Certainly." Hermione did just that and then nicked a book off her bedside table to occupy herself.

Two minutes.

One minute.

Hermione stared at the clock. Where was Draco?

"Don't worry, Hermione," Ginny reassured, "guys are always late. You can't—"

A quick series of solid knocks sounded from the other side of the door and Ginny gasped. "He's on time. Okay, okay." She helped gave Hermione a hand to stand from the sofa and tucked her hand bag under Hermione's arm. "Ready?"

"Definitely," Hermione replied. She was staring at the door curiously. Usually by now Draco would have called through the door or come right in.

Ginny put her hands on Hermione's shoulders and took a deep breath. "Don't you let _anyone_ get to you," she said finally. "That's an order."

"Yes ma'am," Hermione agreed also taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. She peered through the peephole to make sure it was Draco before unlocking the door and stepping back so as not to let the door catch her skirt as she swung it open.

Draco was leaning casually against the wall when she opened the door. He looked as though he had been standing ready and waiting but had grown increasingly bored. However, Hermione noted that he looked…_very_ fit in his tux and she found the whole casual hair and formal wear look very attractive. He stood up suddenly as the door opened and straightened quickly.

His eyes widened. "Wow." He stared at her, some sort of shock running through him. He composed himself. "You look radiant."

She blushed. "Thank you. You…well I'm sure you know how good you look."

"That I do." He smirked and then handed her a bouquet of daisies.

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "Thank you! I love daisies."

"You've told me," Draco said.

"That was…I'm surprised you remembered."

Draco thought about telling her how cheap they were and how he would have rather gotten her roses because showing up with daisies made him feel like a fifth year Hufflepuff. Seeing the smile on her face as she rushed about her flat in her bustling gown to find the perfect vase she knew she had set away somewhere made him hold his tongue and smile back at her. He _accio_-ed the vase for her, caught it effortlessly and filled it with water, placing the flowers in it. "Of course," he said.

"Malfoy," Ginny cooed, "I had no idea you were such a romantic."

Draco spun to see the redhead lounging on the sofa. "What is she doing here?" he demanded.

"She was helping me get ready," Hermione explained. "Now, both of you be nice."

"Alright," they agreed facetiously.

"So, how are we getting to…er…" Hermione waited, hoping he'd finish the thought.

"We'll apparate to Zabini Mansion. Wards let you only within a certain distance. We take a carriage to the gates," Draco told her.

Hermione checked the time. "We're going to be late, aren't we?"

"We're going to make an entrance," Draco corrected. "Are you ready to leave?"

"Ye—no!" she exclaimed. "Ginny, can you go in my room, in the drawer of my bedside table there's a jewelry box with a necklace inside."

Draco grinned and Ginny went off in search of the box. She found it right where Hermione had said it would be and she opened it and looked inside on her way back. "Merlin. Where did you get—wait. Let me guess. Malfoy?"

"Birthday present," Draco said. "Now, if you're worried about being late we better get going."

"Okay," Hermione said. "Just help me put this on and I'm ready to go."

Draco strode over and lifted the necklace from the box. He stood behind her and placed it around her neck, snapping the clasp closed. He stared at the smooth, creamy expanse of skin Hermione bared in her strapless dress. Her shoulder blades, her long neck, her collar bone, it was all tempting him. He wanted to kiss and nip every uncovered inch of her.

He cursed the redhead's presence.

"Okay you two," Ginny announced, "off you go."

Hermione smiled. She carefully hugged the other girl and said goodbye.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do," Ginny whispered as she pulled back.

Hermione blushed profusely. "Shut up," she grumbled.

Draco offered her his arm. "Ready?"

She took a deep breath and nodded once. "Ready when you are." She gripped his arm tightly as he pulled out his wand and spun, disapparating.

They landed on a cobblestone path and Hermione found herself extremely grateful that she had Draco's arm to hold on to as she wobbled in her heels on the uneven stone. Draco had landed steadily on the ground not even swaying as things began to settle for Hermione. He reached over and held her upper arm as well.

"Are you alright?" he asked with a chuckle.

"Yes," she replied. "Stop laughing."

"Stop stumbling," he retorted as they began to move to the side of the path. He continued to help her keep balanced as they walked.

Hermione looked around then once they'd stopped. She could see a village a long way away, but it was still visible, and in the other direction she could see a carriage riding away to a destination she couldn't see. With these apparation wards she wondered if the Zabini family had always been this paranoid or if it was just Blaise.

It was chilly. Hermione wished that her beautiful dress had sleeves. She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered as a slight breeze blew over her skin. Draco began to shrug out of jacket.

"That's not necessary," Hermione interposed, stopping him with a hand on his arm.

He shrugged off first her hand and then continued with his jacket. "Draco," she said, "really. Look," she pointed, "I can see a carriage coming this way. No problem."

The carriage _was_ heading their way. Or, at least it looked like a carriage. It could have just as easily been an over-sized cannon ball slowly rolling their way. It was hard to tell when it was so far away.

Draco shook his head at her. "Why didn't you bring a robe?" he asked as he placed his dinner jacket over her shoulders.

Hermione couldn't decide whether she liked him better with or without the jacket. She definitely loved the bowtie. It was dashing.

The object drew nearer and, yes, it was carriage. Extravagant and shining in the very little light the slowly ending dusk was giving, the black carriage was drawn by two black horses. Another, identical, carriage followed closely behind it.

"I…I didn't think to. I thought we'd apparate and, you know," Hermione pointed closely ahead, about where the carriages were, "it would be right there. Or at least, the carriage would be sitting right there."

Draco checked his watch. "Well, we are late so I think it's understandable that the carriage isn't _right_ there."

"Shush," she said. "And the carriage happens to be _right there now_. So take your jacket back." She handed him his jacket and he shook his head at her in amusement. "What?" she asked.

"Now, you're just trying to prove a point," he said smugly. "I don't know what the point is. But you are. Put the jacket back on before you get cold."

"I could've just used a warming charm," Hermione said, still holding the jacket out to him.

"Yes," he said, "but that makes me look like a shitty date. Wear the jacket."

The carriage pulled up in front of them and Hermione smiled in satisfaction as she once again handed him the jacket. He hung it on his arm as he opened the door to the driverless carriage for her and helped her and her many layers of skirt inside. He shut the door and went around, sitting beside her contently in the charmed-warm carriage.

He put back on his jacket and the carriage began to move. "So, how many of these balls has Blaise thrown?" Hermione asked.

"Every year since we left school," Draco replied. "Though the first year or two were a little catastrophic."

"Oh really? What happened?"

"Well, let's see," he said, "there was the year Blaise tripped and spluttered his entire speech out because he got completely sloshed a little too early. And then his cousin caught him with his girlfriend in the billiard room. He was still pissed as ever."

"Oh!" Hermione laughed. "Well Blaise seems rather secure. He couldn't have been _that_ embarrassed."

"He wasn't," Draco said, "until he had to walk around the rest of the night with a black eye."

"Black eye?" Hermione repeated. "What happened?"

Draco gave her an odd look, one eyebrow raised at her like _he_ was the one who didn't quite understand. "His cousin," he said.

"Why did his cousin…" Her mouth suddenly dropped open. "Oh no. It wasn't _Blaise's girlfriend_. It was his _cousin's_ girlfriend?" she asked.

Draco nodded with a laugh.

"I can't believe Blaise would do that! You Slytherins!"

"Hey, it wasn't me," Draco said, hands raised in defence. "Besides, Blaise had no idea that she was with Felice."

"He didn't know?" Hermione repeated incredulously.

"She pulled him aside, asked him to go somewhere else. You beguiling women are hard to say no to. How was he supposed to know?"

"I still find it a little doubtful," Hermione said. "But even so, Blaise, what a…lothario."

Two champagne flutes suddenly appeared, hovering in front of them. Draco shrugged and grasped the stem of the glass, pulling it out of the air and bringing it to his lips. Hermione followed suit and tilted it back, taking a sip of the bubbly liquid.

"I think I like champagne," she commented. She took a larger, experimental sip. "I used to think I didn't."

Draco took another swig from his glass looking indifferent. "Champagne was your first drink then?"

She looked surprised at his guess. "Yes," she said, "aside from butterbeer I suppose, if that counts for anything. I had it at my parent's Christmas party when I was seventeen. It tasted…strange."

"You just weren't use to the taste of alcohol," he said.

"Well," she said, "for alcohol, this is delightful."

Draco chuckled at her slight amazement and held his glass to her. "Would you like mine as well then?" he teased.

She downed the rest of hers and quirked her eyebrows in his direction. "Well, only because you teased me, don't mind if I do." She went to swipe his glass and he held it out of reach.

"You know, I would," he said, "but look at you. Another quarter of a glass and you'll be past tipsy. Not for you," he said, drinking the liquor himself.

"Don't patronize me," she snapped.

He just shook his head at her and vanished their glasses. She frowned at him. "You think I can't hold my liquor?" she asked, trying to ignore the warm buzz that was slowly making her tingle.

He disregarded her question and instead shot her a charming smile. "Have I told you how exquisite you look tonight?"

"Not in those words, no," she said. "But don't think I've forgotten your little comment. And thank you."

"You're welcome," he returned. He leaned forward and, because she wouldn't turn to accommodate him more, kissed her cheek.

She shot him a mocking glare. "Ginny will kill you if you ruin my makeup."

"I hardly think the makeup is necessary," he told her.

"Flattery will get you nowhere."

"Nowhere?" he asked. He leaned over and placed another, slow, prolonged kiss to her jaw, just by her ear. "I don't understand." He paused and his knuckles brushed her neck. "Why are you so beautiful?" he whispered against her skin.

She shivered and let out a deliberate breath. She couldn't decide what to convince herself of. Was it his words or actions affecting her this way? Nevertheless she had no desire to stop him quite yet.

"And lovely," he added. "You," he gave her another soft kiss down her jaw, "are," another, "so," another, "lovely," one more.

Hermione closed her eyes and sighed.

"Hermione?" Draco asked.

"Hmm?"

His voice was low. "Flattery will get me where?"

Her eyes fluttered open. "Nowhere," she replied quietly. "Nowhere, you Slytherin."

Draco's eyebrows rose suggestively. "Shall I try harder then?"

The carriage slowed to a stop and a short man in a white dinner jacket opened the carriage door. Draco refused the man's help out of the carriage and instead slipped a couple of galleons into his outreached hand. The man nodded and put the coins in his jacket pocket. He went to help Hermione step down from the carriage.

Draco stopped him and the man stepped back. Hermione looked at Draco. "I've got you," he said. He then all but lifted her from the carriage and set her steadily on her feet. He kept his arm around her waist, even after she had gained her footing, and he led her away from the carriage. The man in white shut the door and the carriage was off, back the way it came.

"Hermione! Draco!" someone yelled. The pair turned at the sound of their names and were met with a bright, blinding flash.

"Oh!" Hermione exclaimed, blinking and turning away to Draco's shoulder.

"Just reporters," Draco murmured so only Hermione could hear. She looked up at him. "They always have a small bunch at these sorts of things. You know, rich people, important people it's all big news to them."

"Well I suppose you'd fall under the rich people then?" she asked.

"Oh, I'm not important, am I?" he retorted. She gave him a coy smile. "Well, anyway," he said, "they've never quite had this reaction to my arrival before. I'd assume you're the important one then."

"Miss Granger, Mister Malfoy! A few questions!" A reporter begged.

"What do they want?" Hermione asked.

"A few questions apparently," Draco replied. She did not look amused. "Ignore them."

More flashes went off. "Miss Granger, tell us, _where_ did you get your gown?"

"Witch Weekly," Draco muttered.

"Miss Granger, what's the story? How did a good girl, heroine like yourself get mixed up with wicked, bad boy, former Slytherin, Draco Malfoy?"

Hermione laughed. "Slytherin," she whispered to him.

"How do you feel about his being a father? Do you plan to mother the child yourself?"

Hermione was once again blinded by a flash. She faced the reporters, rather bravely if she did say so herself. "Terribly sorry," she apologized, retaining every ounce of her grace, "but we're already late and we really ought to get inside. Now, I got my dress from a beautiful boutique in Paris and Draco Malfoy is one of the kindest," she shot him a smirk, "men I know."

"Kind?" he repeated in her ear.

"Yes," she said, "you know you are."

"Miss Granger!" a reporter called.

"No more questions," Draco snapped.

"Kind my arse," Hermione heard a man grumble. She laughed and smiled at them all before letting Draco lead her inside up a pretty path lined with flowers, up a few stairs, and through massive doors. A long, thin, dark green carpet led straight from the threshold toward open French doors to the ballroom.

Hermione looked over her shoulder at the reporters, now busy bothering the couple behind them, and Draco took notice. "What's the matter?" He glanced subtly at the reporters and turned back to Hermione. "Aren't you used to it?" he questioned in amusement.

"No, actually," she said. "They never really cared to know what I was doing. When I first started dating Ron there were a couple of short articles." She shrugged slightly. "When we broke up, again, Witch Weekly ran a story and it may have been mentioned in the paper."

"You didn't care enough to know for sure?"

"Not really. The stories were never interesting," she explained as they continued down the carpet. There were many other corridors leading away on the sides of what Hermione deemed to be the entrance hall and corridor. "Hence, the fact that they didn't really care."

"Well, clearly Rita Skeeter never wrote anything of you then," Draco commented.

Hermione smiled to herself. "Not since school. We've come to an agreement."

"An agrrement? How'd you come about this?" Draco asked. "I've been resorting to threating these people all this time."

She gave him a rather sly look. "Blackmail is much more effective."

"What have you got on Rita Skeeter?" he asked, both surprised and extremely intrigued.

She raised a finger to her lips.

"Come on, Lovely, won't you tell me?" he asked.

"Don't try to be charming," she said as they approached the doors.

He scoffed. "Please," he said. "I don't try."

"Of course," she said with a roll of her eyes.

"She's a bit of a bug, isn't she?" Draco said with curious look.

Hermione caught the hint at the woman's illegal transformation abilities. "I should have figured that you'd know."

"I should have figured that _you'd_ know."

"Why do you let her write things about you then?"

"If I pulled that she'd go digging through my dark past for something to hold over my head. It's easier to ignore the woman," Draco explained. He shrugged. "She's a twit."

"No argument there."

Hermione shook her head and raised her mask to her face. She was grateful for the masquerade theme. She wanted to seem confident, dignified, and graceful and she wasn't so sure she could accomplish all that with people's eyes on her all the while. She was no fool. She knew the crowd she'd be entering in to. She knew they'd judge her from the second she stepped foot in that ballroom and then judge her yet again when they found out just who she was. If she could hold off on the latter for just a little longer, just long enough to make a true impression, she knew she could last the night. Probably.

She gripped Draco's arm just a little tighter as they walked into the ballroom.

It wasn't as magical as Hermione would have expected. It was still very nice-looking. Round tables that seated six guests each, draped with black table cloths and gleaming silverware had silver chairs circling them and sparkling chandeliers hung from the ceiling. And in the center of it all, beneath the huge, grand chandelier was the dance floor; wide, white and gleaming under the lights with a small stage for the live band.

Draco seemed to know exactly where they were going as he steered her left and headed straight for Blaise Zabini.

"_Granger_?" Blaise said in disbelief the second he laid eyes on her.

"_Zabini_?" she said right back. "Well, don't you clean up nicely?"

Blaise's eyes were wide as he appraised her. "You're one to talk. I should've known. After the Yule Ball? Of course you'd upstage yourself."

"Why thank you."

"You're very welcome. You'll save me a dance later," he said, hardly a hint of a question.

"No," Draco cut in before Hermione could answer.

Hermione lowered her voice and winked. "I'll try to sneak away later."

"Well then you, pretty lady, can come sit with me," Blaise said, placing her arm in his and walking away. Hermione let go of Draco to follow him. "Oh," Blaise added, "mate, you can join us, too, if you'd like."

Hermione got hold of Draco's hand and pulled him along despite the petulant frown he put on.

They sat down at Blaise's table, the only other occupants being three other girls. Draco sat down next to Hermione, purposely between her and Blaise. He didn't care whether it was merely friendly or not. He had a plan for this date and Blaise's flirting tendencies were not welcomed to it. He decided he ought to make this clear.

Leaning over to Hermione, who was busy introducing herself to everyone at the table and trying not to show her amusement and dislike at their half-witted answers to her polite, small-talk inducing questions, Draco whispered, "I'm your date tonight. You are with me, and me only. Understood?"

She ignored the fact that she should have been telling him he was being a little rude for both interrupting her and acting a tad possessive; however, she didn't really care to hear how the girl had gotten her hair to have so much volume and Draco's voice was slightly alluring. "It works both ways," she said.

"Of course."

"Then I'm yours."

* * *

**A/N: Okay, long chapter I hope you enjoyed it. I'm posting it now just because I know I won't be able to post for a while. I won't have time to work on another chapter seriously in the next week so I'm apologizing in advance. **

**But feel free to send me your ideas for the next chapter, it could very well speed up the process a tad for when I can start writing again.**

**As a side note, I am an entire year older now! So yay to that.**

**Thanks for reading. Please review.**

**Anyways,**

**Scarlett**

**By the way, Felice is pronounced fe-lee-chey.**


	27. Chapter 27

**A/N: Before you read this know that I am out of my wits tired right now but I felt positively awful for such a long wait. I was in NYC for the past little while and proper access to my documents wasn't available so I spent time writing out rough notes to finish this chapter ASAP. I hope you enjoy it. **

Draco fought to hide his laughter as he watched Hermione drink from only her water glass and try to interact with Claudia, Elizabeth and Alexandrie. By Hermione's forcibly pleasant expression he could tell her attempts were unsuccessful. He covered a chuckle with a cough as one of the girls, he believed the auburn-haired girl was Elizabeth, asked Hermione what it was like to be dating none other than Draco Malfoy.

Hermione's mouth went ajar in shock at the girl's bold question and she realized that it had gained the attention of everyone at the table. She could practically hear Draco smirking beside her. "I'm not…we're not dating," she said with a quick look at him.

Yet, Draco wanted to add.

"Oh," Elizabeth said, "I'm sorry, I just assumed." Her tone was polite but she didn't sound remorseful in the slightest.

"Wait," Claudia's eyes went wide, "you two aren't _together_?"

"Um…not quite," Hermione replied carefully.

"Well," Elizabeth seemed to perk up at the thought, "that changes things for all the single girls here tonight, doesn't it?"

Claudia winked at Draco and he chuckled with a slight smile. Hermione watched the exchange with distaste. She shook her head at herself, staying in check and turning her attention to her plate that she had barely touched so far.

For the rest of dinner she found herself constantly eyeing the interactions between Draco and the other girls attentively. She also found that she was continuously reminding herself not to act irrationally.

Elizabeth wouldn't stop talking to Draco and Blaise all through dinner and Claudia went into a bout of giggles at just about every word that came out of either of the boys mouths. It was highly annoying in Hermione's opinion. Alexandrie was relatively quiet; she spoke when Hermione attempted to bring her into the conversation but was otherwise silent, focusing on consistently eating small bites of her food.

After noticing this Hermione glanced around the table at the other girl's plates in comparison to her own. She was nearly done her meal save for the few things she didn't like and some potatoes she was too full to eat. Elizabeth had eaten all of the vegetables on her plate and her salad but hadn't touched anything else. Claudia had merely rearranged the food on her plate; Hermione was quite certain she hadn't consumed a single bite. Of course, looking at how tight the bodice of the girl's elaborate ball gown was, and how she was all but busting out of it as it was, it made sense why the girl wasn't eating.

Watching Alexandrie, Hermione was glad to know she wasn't the only female at the table who had a normal appetite. However, it made her just a tad self-conscious as she saw how delicately Alexandrie ate. Sure, Hermione was confident her table manners were perfectly adequate, but she couldn't tell if she had eaten rather fast or if the other girl ate oddly slowly. She wasn't going to be the type of girl to dwell on such a thing however and she didn't have much time anyway as everyone's eyes were drawn to Blaise as he stood up with his glass and moved to the centre of the room.

Hermione leaned over to Draco. "His speech?" she asked.

He nodded at her. "But of course. The host must always give a speech."

"He's not drunk yet, is he?" Hermione joked.

"Not this time," Draco replied. "He's learned to address everyone early so he can get to the real drinking sooner."

"I see." Hermione smiled at him and tuned in to Blaise as he called for everyone's undivided attention.

With a quick mutter of '_sonorus_' Blaise was speaking to the entire room. "Good evening everyone," he said. "I want to thank you all for coming here tonight. Ladies, you all look beautiful. Gentlemen…well, at least now you all look like gentlemen. Maybe if you treat the ladies nicely all night long and do as they say, everyone has a little liquor, you might get lucky." He grinned at the crowd and they laughed, a few tables cheering as well. Clearly some had already dipped a little far into the liquor.

"Now, it's an open bar, of course," Blaise said. "So, safe apparating and all of that. Designate a sober side-along if you must. The floo will be open for people to get home if they should need it. Toilets are out the doors and to the left, ladies; as well as down the hall, to the right and the second door on your left, men. I hope you all have a wonderful evening. Happy Hallowe'en!"

There was polite applause from everyone for their rather young and good-looking host. Blaise smiled at his audience before striking up the band with a swift movement of his hand and then he went back to his table. Their plates were cleared and dessert was placed in front of them.

Hermione took a bite of the soufflé and sighed. She still had that slight buzz from her earlier glass of champagne and she was itching to touch the glass in front of her as well; to taste the sweet bubbly liquor. She wanted to remain perfectly proper though and tipsy wasn't an option, at least not until the dance floor was open.

She smiled and took a sip of her water.

"So," Blaise said, taking a hiatus from his mindless conversation with the girls and turning to Draco, "how are your philanthropist efforts coming along?"

"You're a _philanthropist_?" Claudia asked in excitement, pushing back her sleek, dark locks to lean forward. "I think my cousin hired a _personal_ philanthropist when she _fell_ and hit her _head_. It was _terrible_. You must work _really _hard." She reached over and patted Draco's hand in admiration.

Hermione thanked the heaven's she hadn't any food or drink in her mouth as she quickly clapped a palm over her mouth to contain her laughter. Draco and Blaise looked at her; the amusement was there in their eyes. The Slytherin Purebloods they were though, they kept their expressions cool and under control. Draco patted Hermione on the back as though she was just having a coughing fit. "Breathe," he said with a smirk.

"You alright, Granger?" Blaise asked with an amused look her way.

Hermione took a deep, settling breath and smiled sweetly. "I'm fine," she assured, though the girls looked less concerned for her respiratory system and more concerned for her mental health. "Sorry. You were talking about Draco being a philanthropist?"

"I'm only investing in a few places," Draco explained, "the only place I've actually donated to so far is the Organization for War Recovery and that was just extra money towards the orphanages."

Hermione was familiar with that. She, Harry, and Ron personally donated generous sums of money to the organization each year. A lot of it went towards paying off debt for rebuilding places and helping families or children that were left orphaned after the war. The organization was pretty successful and Hermione knew a few people who worked within it.

"Awww," Claudia cooed, "that's so _sweet_. _Draco,_ you're so _generous_." Hermione was quickly learning that this was the way the girl spoke. She wasn't even doing it just for Blaise and Draco; when she spoke to Elizabeth as well she was stressing certain words and speaking as though everything she had to say was utterly interesting.

Draco gave the girl a weird look. Her voice was an irritating pitch and he was finding it hard to listen to her talk. "Thanks," he said offhandedly.

The idle conversations continued on for a while before the band began to play louder and the song changed. The dessert plates vanished as couples around the room stood up and strode onto the dance floor. Hermione watched the beautiful dresses swish and the gowns sweep the ground behind the women who wore them as they all but glided confidently onto the floor.

"Hermione." She looked up to see Draco offering her his hand.

"Oh," she said.

Draco shook his head at her. "Would you like to dance?"

"Hm. Yes," she accepted, taking his hand and standing. She felt unstable on the spindly heels Ginny had put her in and she was staring at the floor the entire way to the dance floor, despite having Draco's arm and not being able to see her feet beneath her dress anyway.

Draco looked at her. "Are you okay?"

"Fine." She shot him a quick smile and that one moment of lost concentration caused her to tilt a bit in her unfamiliar shoes on the all too smooth marble surface. She realized Draco's earlier teasing about her stumbling was not completely unwarranted.

She felt like she was sliding on the dance floor and she considered just dragging her heels across the floor to avoid slipping.

Draco took her hand in his spun her around. She managed to be semi-graceful as she went with the turn and he pulled her into his arms, his hand going to her waist and hers carefully on his shoulder. She let him lead her through the waltz and tried to follow the best she could.

Hermione's foot twisted to the side as she lost her balance and Draco quickly wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her upright before she fell to the side. "Thank you," she said sheepishly.

"You didn't sneak a drink while I wasn't looking, did you?" he asked with mock suspicion.

"No," she said, her voice just barely tinted with annoyance. "Although, listening to those girls, that champagne was most definitely tempting."

He chuckled.

She wobbled.

"That's it," Draco said in slight exasperation.

"Wha—" Hermione began, she was cut out by her own gasp however as Draco tightened his hold around her waist and quickly lifted her up and swiftly moved her as close to him as her dress would possibly allow. Hermione hesitated but as Draco tried to lead her a step back and she nearly had them both topple backwards, she decided it was best if she just accepted that at the moment she could hardly stand on her own let alone dance. She leaned into Draco as he continued to move them through the waltz, sticking with the simple box-step to save her the trouble of trying to keep her balance _and_ keep up.

Hermione continued to tilt in odd directions in her heels as the song continued. She had to admit, if it wasn't for Draco's impeccable dancing skills and ability to support them both then they would have fallen on their arses mere seconds into the song. She thought about dancing with Harry and Ron. It was a noticeable change to dance with someone who didn't have to count aloud the song's beat as they tried to dance with relative poise.

The song came to a close and Hermione tilted her head up to look at him, her cheek resting on his lapel. "If you would be so kind as to walk me back to the table," she began, "I think I will remain there the rest of the evening thank you."

He chuckled and she could feel the vibrations through his chest. "That's no fun," he commented.

"I'm not coming back on this dance floor," she said. "These shoes are the devil in disguise."

"Alright." He slowly slid his arm from around her waist and she once again latched on to his elbow. He began to escort her off the dance floor and lead her right past their table. She tried to tug him back.

"Have _you_ been sneaking drinks?" she asked with a laugh. "Our table's back there."

"Yes, but that's not where we're going," Draco said.

"Oh?"

"Yes."

"So, pray tell, where are we going?" She looked up from the floor for a split second to catch a glimpse of the direction they were headed. "And I thought you said I wasn't allowed any more champagne."

He gave her his hand as she tried to get on the bar stool without stepping on her dress. It wasn't working out very well so she settled on leaning back against the large expanse of the bar top. "Well then I guess we can't have champagne," Draco told her. "Two—"

"Of the specialities," Hermione interrupted. Draco gave her a look as the bartender got to work on the drinks. "I thought you wanted to have fun," she said innocently.

"I hate signature drinks," he said flatly.

"You haven't tried it yet," she shot back.

"Blaise has them concoct the same thing every year," he told her.

"That doesn't mean you've tried it."

"I hate speciality drinks," he reiterated.

"How would you know if you hate it?"

"I hate them on principle."

"Try it," she said as the bartender placed two martini glasses in front of them filled with orange liquid and black olives on toothpicks. Looking at the drink she began to wonder if she herself was willing to try it. "How…Hallowe'en…ish," she commented. She looked up at the bartender. "Thank you."

He nodded in acknowledgement to her sincerity and then sidled around the bar to serve a couple of wizards on the other side.

Draco picked up the glasses and handed one to his company. She raised her glass. "Cheers," she said.

Their glasses _clinked_ as they made contact. "Cheers," he returned, not lifting the drink to his lips quite yet.

"It's bad luck not to drink after cheers," Hermione advised.

Draco shot her a quick glare. "All this from back when they poisoned the drinks."

Hermione took a tentative sip of the liquid and swallowed. "Not bad…" she said. It had a bit of a spicy tang to it. "Pumpkin," she said.

Draco gave her a weird look but nonetheless he tasted the drink. "Vodka," he said. He took another sip.

Hermione grinned as she placed her glass on the bar and watched Draco. "You like it, don't you?" she said smugly.

"It's alright." He shrugged, not wanting to give her the satisfaction.

"Okay," she said. "So, tell me, what else happens at these balls?"

Draco gestured around. "This is the gist of it. Dinner, dancing, drinking."

"I've done it all then?" Hermione asked as she once again picked up her drink and took a slow drink.

"Just about," he said. "Well, except for the part where they all find people to go home with. But you needn't worry about that." He winked at her and she hit his arm.

"Get your mind out of gutter," she mumbled, blushing a bit regardless. She quickly spun the conversation. "So, do you really know all of these people?" She looked around. There must have been at least two hundred people.

"I know of them," Draco said vaguely. "Anyone over forty has been to every party I ever attended when I was younger since…well, they're purebloods."

Hermione nodded and tried not to consider how out of place that made her.

Draco saw the quick look of trepidation cross her features and he moved his glass to his other hand, standing a little taller before leaning back closer to her than he was before. He drank the rest of his martini and then said, "And I've plenty of stories about anyone under twenty-five."

Hermione perked up at that, curious. "Really?" she asked in interest.

He nodded with a smirk.

"Okay." Hermione surveyed the room carefully before her eyes landed on a tall blonde in a backless, form-fitting, red silk gown. She pointed discreetly. "Her. Does she have any stories?"

"Blair Cavanaugh?" he said. "She was, hm, let's say…a little _rotund_ until a couple of years ago. Some were saying she participated in a weight loss potion experiment. Others say she began to starve herself."

"Oh," Hermione said frown. "Well that's terrible. She looks great."

"Yes, and with her new found self-confidence she managed to steal Witherspoon," he gestured his empty glass to the man beside Blair, "making him Astoria Greengrass'," he gestured again, this time to a girl across the room from the aforementioned couple, though Hermione seemed to recall her from school, "therefore _ex_-fianceé."

Hermione's eyes widened. "Well then."

"Next," Draco said.

Hermione quietly described the appearance of a woman just two tables away and Draco chuckled. "First of all, she is not under twenty-five," he said. Hermione opened her mouth to say something and he shook his head. "Don't let looks deceive you. The man next to her who appears to be under the effects of a mild sleeping draught, that would be her, what is it now…fourth or fifth husband?"

Hermione couldn't help the laugh that escaped her. "Oh my."

"No shit," he said.

She laughed even harder at his sentiments as the bartender appeared behind them.

"Can I get you anything more to drink?" he offered.

"Hmm." Hermione considered this. "I'll have a glass of water thanks. And he'll have another one of these," she held up her not yet empty glass, "please."

"Certainly."

They took up residence at the bar for the next half hour or so, drinking whilst watching and analysing the people around them. Draco told her stories of the previous parties he'd attended and speculations made about the guests. Part way through Hermione could no longer tell whether he was making up the tidbits himself or if they really were things said by other people, but she hadn't the heart to truly care anyway and she was more than happy listen to the tales as being, well, tales. Her cheeks were beginning to hurt from smiling and laughing so much.

Blaise joined them while Hermione was practically in stitches over a story about some cousin or another. Draco was smirking in satisfaction at being able to make her laugh so much.

"What are we talking about?" Blaise asked.

Hermione struggled to catch her breath to even _begin_ to explain but Draco just shrugged with a reply of "Nothing."

Blaise nodded and Hermione composed herself. "Mate, I've had over seven people now ask me where you are, and why haven't you come to say hello yet. I don't mean to bother you and your date but it'd be much appreciated if you'd do the rounds sooner than later."

Draco looked at Blaise. "They're not my bloody guests."

"Draco it's okay," Hermione said. "You go ahead. I'll be fine here by myself for a little while."

Draco looked at the many people in attendance in dismay. It probably was a good idea for him to mingle just a bit, these people were his contacts. "Come with us," he told her.

The word 'mudblood' passed through her mind. "I'm fine here, thanks," she said.

"Draco's not as impolite as he seems," Blaise said, "he'll introduce you."

"No," Hermione insisted, "I'll stay here. Really." She motioned towards her feet. "I'd just slow you down anyway. I don't want to be tripping all over the place."

"Are you sure?" Draco asked.

She nodded.

"I'll be back in a couple of minutes. Don't go anywhere."

She laughed. "I don't think I'd get very far if I tried."

Draco followed Blaise into the mass of people both mingling and dancing on the dance floor. Hermione tried not to watch them too much and instead asked for another drink and made conversation with the bartender as he made it. He was a nice man, probably in his late thirties, with graying hair and laugh lines. He entertained her with a few tricks with a couple of vodka bottles and told her about how he only tended these types of parties because he found it amusing how superior some of the guests seemed to think they were. Hermione had to smile and nod at that.

"Your bloke seems like an alright chap though," he added.

"Just alright?" Hermione asked with a laugh.

"I recognize him from this same ball a couple years ago," Lawrence, she noticed a business card with his picture behind the bar, told her. "He was far from alright back then."

"I'm well aware, trust me," Hermione said. "He's done some growing up since then."

"Good to hear," he said. A couple of older men walked up to the bar and Lawrence excused himself from their conversation to serve them.

Hermione sighed. She felt awkward now by herself. She watched Blaise lead Draco to each group of people and stop to chat with all of them a while before moving on. Blaise looked like he was playing a very good host to all of his guests and Draco was polite, or just a little indifferent, to all of the people he was greeting.

Hermione saw them approach a group of people about their age and a few of the girls kissed Draco's cheek by ways of hello. Hermione found herself glaring at the group in anger. She observed them as they talked and then one of the girls took Draco's hand and said something. Hermione presumed she had asked him to dance as she saw the girl try to lead Draco towards the other couples and he retracted his hand and said something as well. The girl looked put off for a second before taking another man's hand and going off to dance.

Draco ran a hand over his hair tiredly as Blaise led him into yet another group of people. He didn't mind the older crowd so much. With them it was hello, how are you, what have you been up to and then you'd leave them to their previous conversation and move on. Well, except for the nosey and gossiping ladies who had the audacity to bring up his having a daughter with a deceased mother. Honestly, these people were utterly callous.

"So I hear you have a daughter now? Pansy's was it? I read about it in the paper. That really was too bad, wasn't it? What happened?"

Draco's demeanor changed substantially at this. His voice was cold and clipped as he replied. "She passed away."

"Oh."

Blaise managed to salvage the conversation and bring it to a quick, somewhat polite end before moving them to another table.

Draco attempted to be polite with the people they conversed with after that. By the time they reached the third to last group of people, all around their age with drinks in hand. When the fourth girl that night, who _wasn't_ Hermione, basically told him to dance with her, he was too sick of all the mingling to be even the slightest bit gracious. "No," he said.

The girl looked affronted and just stared open-mouthed at him before turning away and finishing her drink and quickly grabbing another off the tray of a passing waiter. "What?"

Blaise hastily cut in to expand his friend's refusal. "He's not really up for dancing right now."

Draco would have disagreed with Blaise's explanation; he might've said something along the lines of 'not with the likes of you anyway,' except he hadn't really heard what Blaise had said. He was too busy trying to keep an eye on Hermione through the crowd and the people around the bar. "Excuse me," he said as he attempted to leave the group to find Hermione.

Blaise grabbed his sleeve. "Where are you off to, mate?"

"To find my date," Draco replied, pulling his arm from his host.

"You're here with someone?" one of the girls asked. "Who is she?"

"Hermione Granger," Draco informed the group with a lopsided grin.

Their expressions changed noticeably and someone uttered. "The mud-muggleborn?"

Draco pinpointed the voice to be that of a man just a year or two older than him.

"Watch yourself, Oakley," Blaise warned under his breath.

"No, she's a beautiful young woman, a new business owner and she's the one who helped to save us all," Draco said in response to Oakley's comment. "I suppose she is a muggleborn as well though."

"Right," Oakley said dryly.

"Well, I'll catch up with you guys later," Blaise said. "Have a great time."

He and Draco left the group, hearing the not-so-quiet whispers from behind them as they walked away.

"Would it kill you to be decent?" Blaise asked with a laugh.

"No, but I might kill him for his indecencies," Draco said with a sharp look over his shoulder at the group. Blaise sighed.

"Listen, as uncalled for as that was, he did try to fix it. Old habits die hard and some people haven't been as progressive as others."

"Sure."

"You used to be these people," Blaise reminded.

Draco glared at him. "Don't even."

"Well, I don't want you putting all my guests in a bad mood, alright? I'm trying to throw a party here and it's going to be awesome. Don't ruin it."

"Then you deal with your guests," Draco snapped. "Don't bring me into this."

"You're a killjoy, mate," Blaise told him. "Now, cheer up and go find Granger."

Draco began to shoulder his way through the people to find Hermione.

Hermione sighed as she was literally pushed aside by yet another person as they tried to get Lawrence's attention. Apparently the waiters going around with the champagne weren't moving fast enough anymore, or the guests decided they needed harder liquor. Either way they seemed to be rushing the bar and there was no longer any space for Hermione. She wandered away from the people and thought she'd try her luck at conversation with a group of girls close by.

She hadn't even a chance to introduce herself before one of them said, "You came with Draco Malfoy, didn't you?"

"Yes," Hermione confirmed with a nod. "I'm Hermione."

"But you're not dating Draco, right?" another girl said.

"Not…no," she said. "So, how do you all know Blaise?"

"So it doesn't bother you that he has a third of the girls at this party after him?"

"I just came as a friend," Hermione explained.

"I was thinking of asking him to dance myself," a girl in a deep green gown said to somebody else.

Hermione resisted the urge to roll her eyes and instead began to look for a way out of the conversation. "I'm going to the loo," she said. Nobody seemed to notice so she slipped and tripped her way out of the hall and towards the toilet.

A sign had been put on the door that had '_Witches'_ written on it in elaborate script. She tried the doorknob and realized it was unlocked. She pushed the heavy door open and stepped inside an enlarged powder room. There was one toilet that was closed in by a frosted glass stall and the rest of the space was occupied by a couple of plush looking benches, a long counter, and many mirrors. Hermione went over to the full length mirror, not really needing to use the loo, and caught a curl that was slipping from a hair pin. She tucked it back into its place just as another girl entered the room.

Hermione instantly recognized that she knew her but couldn't quite place her.

The girl had light skin and dark brown hair that was pulled sleekly to one side and curled slightly. She was in a midnight blue dress that had a plunging neckline down to the top of her ribs. It amazed Hermione how somehow she managed to look classy.

The girl smiled at Hermione before leaning over the counter to look closely in the mirror. "Oh Merlin," she sighed, "I look like I was slugged."

Hermione glanced over and met the girl's eyes in the mirror briefly. Her eye makeup had smudged and it did look a little like bruising under her eye. She took a tissue and wet it a little before adding a bit of soap, then she wiped at the makeup until it disappeared.

Hermione busied herself by washing her hands as the girl dabbed base powder on the spot she had just cleared of makeup. Hermione tried not to stare as she continued to try and put a name to face beside her.

"Would you happen to have any eyeliner on you?" the girl asked suddenly, looking up from her bag. "I'm sorry; you must think something of me for asking a stranger to borrow makeup. I don't know if you remember me…Daphne Greengrass."

"Daphne!" Hermione exclaimed. "I knew I had gone to school with you! Of course!" She laughed and held out a hand. "Hermione Granger."

Daphne gave her a strange look as she shook her outstretched hand. "Like I wouldn't know who you are."

Hermione wasn't sure how to take the comment but from the smile that came along with it she chose not to be offended. She didn't ever remember Daphne being the kindest Slytherin in school, but let bygones be bygones, she thought. Besides, she had no distinctive memories of Daphne being mean to her in particular. At least not anything out of the ordinary between Slytherins and Gryffindors. "Well," she said, "I don't think I have any eyeliner on me but…" She opened her handbag and rummaged through it. Her wand, powder, lip balm, tissues, hair pins, breath mints...clearly Ginny had been into her bag while she wasn't looking…and finally, eyeliner.

Hermione held up the object in question. "Will this do?"

"Yes!" Daphne exclaimed. "Could I borrow it? I feel like my eyes don't match anymore."

Hermione handed it to her and she began to trace over the outline of her eye. "Thank you," she said when she was finished with it. "I owe you one."

"No problem," Hermione said, dropping the makeup back into her bag.

"You've caused quite the stir here, being with Draco." Daphne commented. "You are _with_ Draco, yes?"

Hermione sighed in exasperation. "Yes," she said, "as…friends."

"Oh, don't worry," Daphne assured, "I'm not after Draco…or Blaise for that matter like just about _every other girl_ _here._"

Hermione laughed. "Don't I know it."

"You and Draco are _more_ than friends though, aren't you?"

"Almost," Hermione replied uncertainly.

"I saw you two on the dance floor," Daphne said. "No man who can dance as well as I know he can would hold a girl like that on the dance floor because she can't keep up, just because he got to _hold_ you at all, you know? You two are something." Daphne set to fixing her hair as she continued. "Not to mention the fact that as he came to say hello to us all he all but ignored us. And I certainly wouldn't think he was staring at the bar because he fancies the bartender."

Hermione nodded dumbly.

"I'm surprised you left him alone this long though," Daphne told her. "I know there are quite a few girls out there just waiting to jump his finely dressed bones."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "And you said you're _not_ after him?"

"Of course not," Daphne confirmed.

"So who are you after then?" Hermione asked.

Daphne blushed. "Actually I believe he's a friend of yours…Ron Weasley."

"Ron?" Hermione repeated.

She nodded. "I recently interviewed him for the prophet," she explained. "I'm a reporter. Anyway, he was kind of adorable and I found him rather charming. I don't suppose you think I have a chance with him?"

Hermione's eyes were wide. "Um…I think you have a definite chance. But…Ron's sort of clueless, I mean, he probably doesn't even realize you're interested."

"Well, I only dropped about a thousand hints!" Daphne said. "Have you seen him recently? Has he mentioned me?"

Hermione didn't want to hurt the girl's feelings. "I haven't seen him lately," she said. "But I will see him this weekend. If you want, I can try and fit your name into the conversation, push him in the right direction." She could tell that Daphne meant well with Ron, she seemed a little smitten with her redheaded friend.

"It would mean a lot," Daphne said. "Thank you. I guess I owe you doubly now."

Hermione smiled.

"Hey, if you want to scare off the other girls," Daphne started, "you might want to start with a little more time dancing with Draco. I mean, that way they can't approach him and it marks him as _your_ date. And you looked pretty cozy before."

Hermione laughed. "I don't want to be…possessive," she said. "Besides, I _cannot_ dance in these shoes."

"Well, most men find a _little_ possessiveness to be good. A turn on even." She winked. "And since I seem to owe you a couple of favours anyway, I think I can help with those shoes. Here." She pulled out her wand and Hermione raised her skirts enough to reveal her heels.

Daphne muttered an incantation and suddenly Hermione didn't feel like the spindly heels were about to snap or send her toppling onto the ground and her ankles were upright and in no danger of twisting.

"Sticking charm," Daphne explained. "Not very strong, but you won't slip and they won't turn out," she gestured with her hands. "And you can still walk normally."

Hermione tested it out. "Wonderful!" she said. "Thank you!"

"You don't really think I could walk in these without a little help, did you?" She lifted her gown to show Hermione her four and a half inch tall, black stilettos. They laughed.

"Now," Daphne said, "we should get back out there. Draco's probably looking for you."

Hermione nodded and held open the door for them.

"And don't you dare stare at the ground any longer," Daphne warned. "I've heard those girls talking about you. Remember: hold your head high, they'd love to see you fall."

Hermione took a deep breath and left the room with her chin up just a little higher, following Daphne back into the ballroom.

Just after she and Daphne had gone their separate ways, she spotted Draco back at the table. He had an empty glass in his hand and a sour expression as he watched everyone around him. He gave his glass to a passing waiter and took another off of the tray while Hermione headed towards him.

She stole the glass from his hand and took a sip. "Oh, that's awful," she said as she put the glass back down. "What is that?"

"Gin," he said, handing her a glass of water.

She drank most of it and he finished the rest. "Where have you been?" he asked. "You said you'd stay where you were."

"I went to the loo," she said. "The bar was getting crowded. And I ran into Daphne Green grass while I was at it."

"Really? And you just stopped to have a friendly chat?"

"Yes, actually. She's quite nice."

Draco nodded and leaned over to pull out a chair for her. "Would you like to sit down?" he asked.

"No," Hermione said firmly. "I would like to dance with you though, if that's alright."

Draco raised an eyebrow and noted that she was standing up fairly steadily. He stood and held out a hand. "More than alright."

**A/N: Thanks for reading! Please review! I was thinking I might move on from the ball in the next chapter. Or I could continue it for a small portion maybe. Or I could bring Dirana and Bervex back in...I'm debating. If you'd like to give me your input feel free.**

**Please review**

**Anyways,**

**Scarlett**


	28. Chapter 28

Hermione listened to the soft, slow music from the band as it floated through the crowd of couples on the dance floor. Draco spun her out and pulled her back in even closer than she was before. She smelled delicious, like vanilla and he felt as though he was being drawn to it. Drawn to her.

Hermione looked up at him through her eyelashes and smiled. "You're quite tall," she said. She didn't have to lift her head so much to look at him even though she was standing so close to him because she was wearing heels. But nonetheless she was looking up.

"Or rather you're quite short," he returned.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. "Well then."

He chuckled and his hand slid down to rest comfortably on the small of her back. "Look at you," he said. He caught her around the waist. "Jump," he instructed. She had a second to do so, by instinct, as he lifted her up, swung her around and then placed her back on her feet. "You're miniscule."

"No," she said, placing her arms around his neck. "Juliet is miniscule. I'm of medium height. _You_ are strangely tall."

"How much have you had to drink again?" he asked.

"Half a drink past my limit," she whispered. "But I still have my wits about me." Okay, so maybe it was a little more than just half. She may have had a glass or two upon re-entering the ball room but the second part was still true. She knew her inhibitions were still intact for the most part.

He shook his head and then placed his chin lightly on the top of her head. "Are you coming to brunch on Sunday?" she asked.

"I can if you'd like me to."

"I'd like that."

She pulled herself up to kiss his cheek before leaning her head on his chest. For a few moments they just swayed and Draco could hear her soft sigh and Hermione could feel him inhale and the music seemed irrelevant. They only vaguely heard it stop and saw a few couples on the floor disperse a bit.

"Hey," Draco said, "you seem much more…balanced. What happened?"

"That's a secret," she murmured into his jacket with a smile.

"Oh really?"

She nodded slightly.

"Hermione Granger, you must be the only woman to ever _gain_ poise while drinking. Aren't you ever so talented," he said.

She laughed softly and shook her head. "You've never seen me pissed."

"Will I?"

She hummed in response and shushed him.

He raised his eyebrows at her even though she couldn't see him. She somehow sensed his question as the next song started. "Dance with me," Hermione stated.

Draco didn't mention the fact that they already were dancing and he had had no intention of letting her go anywhere outside of his embrace. Instead he turned them in a careful and slow circle as Hermione closed her eyes and reached up to slide her fingertips into the soft blonde hair at the back of his head. She tugged gently and looked up at him.

She stared into his gray eyes. They really were striking. She couldn't believe she had thought them cold once. "Damn," she said.

He smirked. "What is it?"

"Oh."

"Yes?"

"I really want to kiss you right now."

He bent his head until his mouth just ghosted over her tantalizingly pink lips. "Do you?"

* * *

"So, what'd you and Granger get to doing after the ball?" Blaise asked.

Draco shrugged as they walked past the ballroom where the previous night's event had occurred. Of course, you couldn't tell by looking at it now. The tables and chairs were gone, every chandelier but the one in the centre had disappeared, the bar was closed, and the band and their stage were nowhere in sight. Judging from Blaise's midday floo, demanding that Draco bring him a hangover cure, Draco figured that Blaise had had no hand once so ever in the clean-up portion of his extravagant party.

"I took her back to her flat," Draco said in response to Blaise's inquiry, "snogged her senseless and went home."

"I believe the word you _should _be looking for is _shagged_ not _snogged_, mate," Blaise said with a grin.

"I wish," Draco said. "She's Hermione Granger though; even drunk she wasn't going to let me past the living room."

Blaise laughed while he entered the living room. "Granger got drunk, eh? Shouldn't that have made it all the easier? Or has all of this talk of your prowess been complete bullshit?"

"Don't be such a prick." Draco glared.

"Hey," Blaise said, "do you think Granger's a virgin?"

"Why the hell are you thinking about whether or not Granger's a virgin?" Draco demanded.

Blaise held up his hands defensively. "All I'm saying—" There was an interjecting _pop_ as a house elf appeared in front of them.

"Can Rizzy get anything for yous?"

"I'm going to have a drink," Blaise said. "You want a drink?"

Draco didn't comment on how this was the same man that had snatched and downed a hangover potion just moments ago. "Glass of firewhiskey," he said.

"Ogden's," Blaise added. Rizzy nodded and popped away.

"All I'm saying," Blaise continued, "is _whom_ would she have—"

"Shut up, Blaise."

"Alright, alright." They got their drinks and Draco finished his quickly. "I was just thinking aloud."

"You? Thinking?" Draco said. "Shit Blaise, don't hurt yourself."

"Haha," Blaise said sarcastically, throwing back a good half of his drink.

Draco placed his empty glass on the table and leaned back. "What'd you get around to yesterday?"

"Ah. The real question is _who _did I get around to. The answer would be Claudia." Blaise smirked. "And then Alexandrie."

Draco shook his head.

"I'll tell you one thing: she's not as quiet as she seems."

Draco laughed. "You're a real piece of work. It's two in the afternoon, by the way, don't you have a crappy job to attend to?"

"I didn't tell you?" Blaise said. "I got sacked."

"I couldn't imagine why," Draco remarked dryly.

"Yeah, about a week ago. The boss said I didn't show the hell up enough. That fricking son of a bitch."

"Well, that's too perfect," Draco said.

"What, that I'm unemployed?" Blaise asked. "I'm thinking this whole working thing just isn't for me, you know? I could go out. I could get another job. I could get sacked again, and then where would I be?"

"The same place you'd be if you _had_ a job," Draco replied. "Sitting here, drinking whiskey, calling eleven the crack of dawn, and nursing a hangover."

Blaise shrugged in consideration. "Probably."

"Well, mate, I have a proposition for you then."

"Go on," Blaise prompted.

"Work for me."

"No way in the burning blazes of hell."

"I'm looking to expand all of the investments I'm making," Draco explained. "Not that I need it, but I want to see those galleons grow. And I happen to know for a fact that your family's vault's been slowly dwindling ever since your sixth stepfather died and your mother decided to screw finding new men. We both know it can't keep up with all of your expensive tastes any more than a few years."

Blaise glowered at him. He realized all of this was probably true. "And?" he asked.

"I'll hire you," Draco told him.

"To do what exactly?"

"Find good investments, meet with them, tell them what to do for me, and manage a few accounts." Draco shrugged. "You can get up at three for all I care. Get the work done, don't screw up and I'll pay you a more than decent amount of money."

Blaise raised an eyebrow at this.

"Won't fire you," Draco said. "Oh, but you'll also need to do most of the legal shit."

"Maybe it's the whiskey," Blaise said, waving his glass around before swallowing the rest of its contents, "but this doesn't sound so bad."

"Good." Draco stood up. "I'll get someone to draw up a contract. See you, mate."

"Whatever," Blaise said. "Hey, if you see Alexandrie…or possibly Claudia…or anyone else I don't recall…" Blaise gave a half-shrug, "show them the way out, would you?"

* * *

Ginny sighed wistfully. "That sounds so wonderful Hermione. You are so freaking lucky."

"I am, aren't I?"

"So…what happened after?"

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, putting Juliet in her snuggly onesie and bouncing her on her lap. "All changed," she sang to the baby girl.

"I mean, when he took you home…" Ginny trailed off and looked at Hermione with raised eyebrows.

"Oh!" Hermione cried as she realized what her friend was implying. "No! No. That did not happen. Merlin, Ginny, really?" She could feel her cheeks redden to the point of matching the bedspread she sat on.

"Hey," Ginny said defensively, "don't think less of me. It was a ball. They're magical. Things happen, don't they?"

"Well, we did snog." Hermione sighed at the memory.

Ginny was interested now. "And?" she prompted.

"It was glorious," Hermione breathed.

Ginny smiled. "That's so nice," she said. "I remember when I first started dating Harry, everything was new and exciting and…" She sighed happily thinking about it.

Juliet giggled as Hermione tickled her tummy and smiled at her.

"Wait. You two _are_ dating now, right?" Ginny questioned.

Hermione closed the changing bag and stood up, adjusting Juliet in her arms. "Miss Julie, are you hungry?" she teased.

The baby babbled sounds back to Hermione.

"Of course you are," Hermione cooed.

"Hermione, are you listening to me?" Ginny asked.

"No, sorry Gin, what'd you say?"

"I asked if you two were dating now. Are you… _together_?" The redhead looked at Hermione expectantly.

"I don't know," Hermione said. She paused. "He hasn't said anything."

"You sound disappointed," Ginny pointed out as she began to follow Hermione out the door.

"I'm not…well, I was a little bit…hm…tipsy at the time," Hermione admitted in a whisper.

"_You_?" Ginny all but screamed.

"Tell your mum, why don't you?" Hermione hissed. "Quiet! But, yes, I had a couple drinks too many."

"Wow. Who knew, you could get plastered, Hermione?" Ginny asked with pleasant surprise.

"Not plastered," Hermione said. "Tipsy. And don't sound so happy about it."

"Sorry," Ginny apologized with a smile as they made their way downstairs. "I just never expected it of you."

"Neither did I," Hermione muttered. Ginny looked at her curiously. "Look," Hermione said, "Draco didn't bring it up and neither did I."

"Why not?" Ginny asked.

Hermione sighed. "I don't know. Because…I didn't even see him the next day. We were both busy. And then when I did see him, he didn't mention it. It seemed…senseless."

"Oh Hermione." Ginny laughed.

"What?"

"Make a move, would you?"

"I did. I think." Ginny raised an eyebrow at her. "I'm fairly sure I kissed him first that night," Hermione told her.

"Fairly sure? How much did you drink?"

"Not a _lot._ But we were dancing, and…I'm not completely sure of anything anymore."

"Oh for heaven's sakes!" Ginny exclaimed with a laugh. "You two are incredible!"

"Glad you find this amusing," Hermione said. "Thanks, Ginny."

"Oh, get over it, Hermione," Ginny said with an exasperated smile. "Really. Next thing you know I'll have to lock you two in the shed outside so you can just jump each other and move on."

They reached the bottom of the stairs and stopped there, lowering their voices so they could finish their conversation without the entire family's ears tuning in. "It's more than _that_ Ginny."

"Sure. I mean move on to a full relationship, Hermione." The brilliant witch looked confused. "Do you realize that you and Draco _appear_ to be in a fully committed and serious relationship? You have a child," Ginny gestured to the blonde baby on Hermione's hip, "you see each other nearly every day," Hermione opened her mouth to protest but Ginny held up a hand, "you go to gatherings with each other." Ginny paused. "Okay, so you did it all backwards, but if you threw marriage in now you'd _almost_ get that part right."

"Ha. Ha." Hermione didn't appear amused in the slightest.

"Lighten up," Ginny said with a playful nudge. Hermione gave her a tired look. The girl just rolled her eyes, unbothered, before muttering, "Bet if you'd just shag him already you'd be light as a feather."

Hermione wasn't listening as she headed into the living room. Ginny sighed as she followed after her friend.

"Lettie!" George exclaimed. "Babe, you're back!" He looked at Hermione. "Nappy's changed?"

"Yes," Hermione confirmed.

George grinned and held out his arms. "Come here then!"

"She needs to be fed though," Hermione said, pulling out the prepared baby bottle.

"I'll feed her," George told her.

Watching Hermione hand Juliet over to George, Draco debated demanding his daughter back. He opened his mouth to say something but decided against it as Hermione sat down next to him and gave him a small smile.

He leaned down to ask quietly, "Something wrong?"

"No," Hermione said, aiming for a calm expression. "I'm…great. Why?"

She placed the changing bag on the floor and repressed a sigh. Sitting back up, Draco's arm went around her shoulders and stayed there. He squeezed her shoulder gently. "You seem…tense."

"I'm not tense," Hermione contradicted.

Draco was about to tell her that she was, in fact, tense and had been acting differently ever since the ball. Or, more specifically, ever since right after the ball. Then again, maybe now wasn't the time to bring that up.

He knew Hermione had had a definite reaction to what had happened after the ball. Of course, he had, too. He had never before Hermione known a girl who could kiss him like that, just kiss him, and then send him out and on his way home in desperate need of a cold shower.

Obviously Hermione's reaction wasn't much like his. She wouldn't be Hermione Granger if she didn't move on to analyse and evaluate every little thing about the night. But she hadn't mentioned it at all, and Draco refused to be the one to broach the topic. If he had to wait days before he could kiss her again then so painfully be it.

"Oh, how was the grand opening, Hermione?" Bill asked suddenly. "Sorry we couldn't be there."

"No worries," Hermione dismissed. "It went well though."

"Well?" Harry said. "It was fantastic! You wouldn't believe how many people were there."

Hermione smiled and thought back to the day before. The opening of "Granger's Book Corner" had been a success.

She'd had so much fun the day before. Scrambling around just before the opening was hectic and Hermione had nearly hexed Ron when he all but tore the banner in two whilst trying to hang it but she hadn't been able to stop smiling. Interacting with the kids, finding books for people, talking about the books with people; none of it felt like work. She didn't feel like she was _working_ she just felt like she was being…_her._ It was amazing. And she got to pick her own hours.

She had decided that she'd work only afternoons on Sundays so she could still attend Sunday Brunch and today she was supposed to be interviewing people to hire at the shop.

She looked at Harry. "Well, maybe it was because they heard Mister Harry Potter himself was going to be there," she teased. She knew Harry hadn't much appreciated the minor mobbing he had received the day before but he had assured Hermione that he was just happy to be there for her.

Harry shook his head at her with a laugh. "Hermione," he said.

"You know I'm kidding," she said. "It was great that all of you were there."

Ron gave her a smile from his spot lying down on the floor. He was stretched out as he kicked her foot in acknowledgement. "No problem Hermione," he said.

"Well it certainly wasn't a problem when you were eating the cake, right Ron?" she asked.

He grinned. "It was delicious."

"He should know," Draco muttered, "he ate half of the bloody thing by himself."

"Oh!" Hermione exclaimed. "I almost forgot! Ron, how would you feel about going on a date this Friday?"

Ron's grin widened. "Hermione," he joked, "I thought we agreed we were better off as friends."

Draco shot Ron a glare which the oblivious redhead missed.

"Not with me you dolt," Hermione continued. "I met a girl at the ball we were at and I'm pretty sure she was interested in you. I was thinking I'd set you guys up." She didn't want to make Daphne sound desperate; the girl had been so nice to her at the ball, the least she could do was _try_ to set her up for a lasting relationship. So there, she had brought up Daphne—indirectly—just as she had said she would, and even better she was just seconds away from sealing a date for her.

"What does she look like?" Ron asked.

"You pig," Ginny accused.

Ron sat up and looked around with wide eyes and hands up in defence. "What?" At Ginny's incredulous look, Hermione's appalled expression, and Harry's quick shake of his head mouthing the words '_don't go there_' Ron shrugged. "What? What's wrong?"

George laughed and mimed digging a grave, making Juliet laugh along with him.

Ginny took James from Harry and kissed his head. "Don't you ever become like your uncle," she said. "Okay?"

"'Kay," James replied, merely mimicking the sounds he heard from Ginny.

"Good." Ginny smiled.

"So, seriously what's she like?" Ron asked.

"She's nice," Hermione said. "She's a reporter."

"A reporter?" Ginny asked. "Who is she? I might know her."

Hermione wasn't sure how they'd take the news that it was Daphne Greengrass. They didn't have anything to hold against the girl, but she had been in Slytherin. Then again, she thought, Ron had already met her for whatever interview it was that Daphne had been talking about. She didn't see the harm. "Actually, she works for the _Prophet_. She went to school with us. Daphne Greengrass," Hermione said.

"The _Prophet_?" Ginny repeated in disbelief.

Well, that hadn't been the response Hermione had expected.

"She works for the _Prophet_?" Ginny said again, clearly unimpressed.

"_The Daily Prophet_," Draco said. "What's wrong with that?"

Ginny rolled her eyes so Hermione took it upon herself to explain. "Ginny doesn't think that the people who write for the _Prophet_ constitute as real journalists."

"Really," Draco said. "What do you write for?"

"_Broomstick_ _Brawl_," Ginny replied. "And we never have to _make up_ our stories. Quidditch is entertaining enough."

"They don't _make up_ their stories, Gin," Hermione said, giving Daphne the benefit of the doubt. She thought of Rita Skeeter. "Okay, they exaggerate and some of their journal—" at Ginny's sharp look she amended, "writers may not be the most reliable with the information."

"They have no integrity!" Ginny exclaimed.

Hermione sighed and turned her attention from the girl to her youngest brother. "That aside," she said, "you _have_ met her. I believe she interviewed you recently for…um…" she wracked her brain, "something or another," she finished.

Ron looked thoughtful. "Interview? For the _Prophet_? The only interview I had was…wait, Daphne Greengrass?"

"Yes," Hermione said, irritated. She hadn't thought it would take this long to get the idea through his thick head. "Daphne Greengrass. Brunette. Relatively tall. Pretty."

Ron's face lit-up with recognition. "Merlin's beard! Daphne Greengrass! She was gorgeous."

"Oh," George said, "way out of little Ronnikins league then."

"Sod off," Ron grumbled.

Juliet became restless on George's lap, squirming and twisting herself about. She let out a cry at being held there and George yielded, placing the little girl beside him on the couch instead. Juliet sat there for a moment before letting out another upset cry. George looked at her. "Oh come on, Lettie. What's got your knickers in a twist?"

Draco stood up and crossed the short distance to where his daughter sat. Juliet reached up for him and he obligingly picked her up and resumed his position on the loveseat next to Hermione. "Shh, Julie," he hushed, but she was already quietening.

Hermione smiled at the baby girl and took one of her little hands. Juliet quickly wrapped her fingers around two of Hermione's. "Okay," Hermione said, "so I can set up a date for you two then?"

"Absolutely." Ron nodded emphatically and Hermione laughed.

"Consider it done," she said.

"Thanks, Hermione."

Draco thought about this. This was as good an opportunity as any.

"Really, Weasley?" Draco asked. Three heads he hadn't meant to address turned in his direction. "Ron...ald," Draco corrected awkwardly.

"What Malfoy?" Ron snapped; he wasn't quite as amicable as Harry had become with Draco.

"Well," Draco shrugged, "you've hardly one encounter with the woman, a former Slytherin mind you," he smirked, "and you're prepared to go out on a date. Let's hope you're smooth on a first date, eh?"

Ron, despite his fruitless efforts not to, turned a deep shade of red. Ginny and George looked caught between laughing and glaring. George seemed to make the decision first as he nodded and laughed. "Malfoy has a point. Hermione said she was 'pretty sure' this girl's interested in you, and while we can trust that Hermione is almost never wrong, you wouldn't want to send this girl on the wrong side of the fence."

Hermione looked between Draco and George before turning to Harry and Ginny. "Maybe you guys could double?" she suggested. She didn't want her efforts to be in vain now; she was hoping she could report a scheduled date to Daphne.

"No," Ginny said. "Not a chance. Harry and I haven't been out without James in two months and if we're going out it is _not_ going to be to chaperone my brother." Hermione looked at Harry and he shook his head, not prepared to challenge Ginny. "Besides," Ginny continued, "it's not like she knows us anyway. Wouldn't it be…weird?"

Hermione looked at George who had fairly recently started officially dating Angelina. "George?"

Ron tried not to look too hopeful as he faced his brother.

"You really want me there?" George asked, the mischievous thoughts shining through his eyes. "I'm touched."

"No." Ron said. "No way. Never mind."

"Aw darn," George said. "And I was so looking forward to it."

Ron sighed.

Draco could practically count down the seconds until the redhead realized he had another option. And as Draco predicted, on cue, Ron's head whipped around to Hermione. "Would you do it?" he asked.

"I…" Hermione looked surprised, Draco put on a perfected look of indifference. "Well, um…" She turned to Draco but he was looking at Juliet.

"Sure," she said. "I don't know if…Draco, would you like to come or…I could ask someone else." Hermione wasn't really sure _whom_ she would ask but if Draco didn't want to go she wouldn't force him to.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Go on a date with him and Greengrass?" he asked. "Sounds like a good time." His sarcasm was not lost on Hermione.

"Okay," she said. "No need to be facetious. I understand."

"I already know Daphne," Draco said, "I don't need to go on a date with her and I'd rather _Avada_ myself than go on a date with you." He couldn't bring himself to personally address Ron so he instead gave him a pointed look.

"You wouldn't be going on a date with either of us," Ron said, "you'd be going on a date with Hermione."

Now that was what Draco wanted to hear. "Why the hell do _you_ want me there?" Draco asked.

Ron's jaw set as he tightly responded, "Because you know Daphne."

"I'm not going on your date," Draco said flatly.

Ginny sighed in exasperation as she went into the kitchen get James' mashed banana. Coming back into the living room she said, "Then don't sit at the same table. Just stick around nearby in case things go awry."

"Fine," Draco said.

Hermione grinned at him. "Brilliant. I should head to the shop now, I'm supposed to be interviewing people, but I'll send Margo with a letter tonight."

"Great," Ron said enthusiastically.

"Perfect," Draco muttered with a sardonic edge, looking down to hide a smile.

* * *

_Daphne,_

_I talked to Ron today. Don't plan anything for this Friday; you have a dinner date. Send him your address and he'll pick you up at seven._

_I'm sorry I didn't ask if you had plans beforehand. I hope this is alright._

_Sincerely,_

_Hermione_

* * *

_Dear Hermione,_

_Thank you so much!_

_I didn't have plans, thank Merlin, so I'm glad I do now. _

_Hermione, would it be too much to ask for you to be there as well? I know we don't know each other very well, but you know Ron and it would make things immensely more comfortable. Feel free to say no. I completely understand. _

_Thanks again._

_Sincerely,_

_Daphne_

* * *

_Daphne,_

_I'll be around. But only if you two really need the help. For the most part, you're on your own._

_~Hermione _

* * *

**Author's Note: Okay so I realize this chapter isn't the best. It really is just a filler to set up the next chapter or two. I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless though. Please review, it would mean a lot if you'd let me know what you think. **

**Thanks for reading and thank you to all of you who reviewed the last chapter. I'm sorry I didn't get to reply to many of them, I'll try to reply to all of them this time around.**

**Anyways,**

**Scarlett**


	29. Chapter 29

The bell above the shop's door chimed as somebody walked in. Normally Hermione would have met the sound with an uncontrollable smile but it was more of a grimace as her stomach growled quietly. She had forgotten to change the sign so she could take her lunch break and she had still yet to find someone she deemed suitable enough to hire. She took a deep breath and shushed her stomach before moving from behind the counter to get a better look at the customer and offer her help.

There had been a fairly steady flow of people coming into the shop the past few days. Many of them were just stopping in to see the unfamiliar place in Diagon Alley. Hermione didn't mind though, she liked being able to talk to them and answer their questions about her new business. Now was usually when the amount of people died down to few or none. Lunchtime was typically quiet in all of the shops.

"Hi, can I help you with anything?" she asked politely. She was talking to the back of an elderly man.

He turned around to reveal a little boy that had been standing in front of him. "I don't know," he said. "John, do you know what you're looking for?"

John, who looked to be about four years old, faced Hermione with his wide hazel eyes and whispered, "A book, not a toy."

"Well, that's right," the man said, "but what kind of book?"

"I dunno," John said, staring down at the floor.

The man, presumably John's grandfather, smiled at Hermione. "I'm sorry. I've told him he can pick out a book but he really had his heart set on a toy."

Hermione thought of Teddy, the little boy she hadn't seen in a while. Teddy was probably a year older than the boy standing before her, give or take a few months. She knew Teddy spent the weekend with Harry and Ginny about every other week, and from the stories they told about the young boy she was led to believe that all little boys were like this. Toys were amazing.

Hermione forgot about her lunch for a moment, set on changing John's mind. She smiled back at the man before crouching down in her jeans to be at John's eye level. "Can you read, John?" she asked.

John met her eyes and nodded proudly.

"Wow," she said. "You must to be, hmm, five years old then?" she guessed. She had learnt that with children it was always better to guess up rather than down.

He shook his head.

"How old are you then?" she asked.

He held up four fingers.

"Four," she said. "Well, what kind of books do you like?"

He shrugged.

She pointed over by the lower shelves where most of the children's books were. "I think maybe we'll find something over there. Shall we go look?"

John shrugged once again.

Hermione stood up and walked over to the shelves, checking to make sure John was following her. She knelt and pulled a couple of selected books off the shelf. She handed them to John. "Why don't you look through these and tell me what you think?"

"Okay," John agreed.

Hermione left him alone to skim through the books and took her place behind the counter.

"This is a very beautiful shop," the man complimented.

"Thank you," Hermione said.

"Everything about it is truly enchanting."

Hermione smiled in response and looked over at John. "Is he your…"

"Grandson," the man filled in.

John walked up to his grandfather then, holding a book carefully in both hands, presenting it to the older man. "I like this one," he said.

His grandfather turned the book over in his hands. Approving it he checked to make sure John was sure. John nodded, certain, and his grandfather placed it on the counter. Hermione looked at the illustrated book and then at John.

"This is a great one," she said.

The man gave Hermione the money for the book along with a tip she insisted wasn't necessary. He reminded John to use his manners, eliciting a quiet 'thank you' from the boy towards Hermione.

"You're very welcome," she replied. "Have a good day."

"You, too," John said before he and his grandfather left the shop.

Hermione's stomach rumbled. "Oh, right," she said to herself, suddenly remembering, "lunch."

* * *

"Hello," Hermione said to the maître d'.

"Good evening, madam," he said cordially.

She smiled at him despite wanting to point out how old 'madam' made her feel.

They were in a rather swanky restaurant. The floor was a light cream stone, the dining area carpeted in a slightly darker shade. The walls of the oddly round-shaped restaurant were painted a deep red and warm brown and there were pillars stationed around the room with silver swirls adorning them that were lit up to emanate a soft glow to the area. The music playing quietly in the background to everything really defined the ambiance of the place. It was classy yet modern.

The maître d' turned to Draco, his thick grey eyebrows raised high towards his receding hairline, creating deep wrinkles in his forehead. "Table for two?" he asked.

Draco nodded and Hermione held back a scowl. She had been the one to address the man; she thought it a little sexist for him to immediately turn to ask Draco for confirmation.

Deciding to subtly prove a point, she stepped up from beside Draco. "Yes,' she said. "Now, is there a couple here… he has ginger hair, she's tall—long, brown hair?"

"Yes," he replied, gesturing at a table in the far corner where Ron and Daphne were, in fact, sitting and sipping on wine. "Are you with them?"

Hermione considered how odd this would sound but decided to plough through it anyway. "No," she said. "But we do know them and we were hoping to be seated somewhere close enough to see them yet far enough so as not disrupt them."

His expression remained indifferent and he sounded uninterested as he acquiesced, "I'll see what I can do." He paused a moment before he gathered two menus and led them to a table. A table where it was in no way possible for Hermione to see anything but the pillar they sat behind, Draco, an empty table and a group who appeared to be having a girls' night out. Great.

Draco was perfectly happy sitting in the rounded, toffee coloured armchair at the table they were at. Hermione however looked, by no means, content.

She looked up at the host. She didn't want to be demanding or to give the man any grief but she could see, plain as day, at least four other empty tables that were _not_ behind a pillar.

"Would it be too much trouble," she began, "if we sat over there?" She pointed to one of the aforementioned unoccupied tables.

He gave her what was nearly a sarcastically polite smile, the corners of his thin lips just barely twitching upwards. "Sorry, we have many reserved tables for tonight. I'm afraid there were very limited options."

Draco smirked. Things seemed to be working out just swimmingly.

Hermione craned her neck to see if she could even get a glimpse of flaming red hair or the tall brunette. She let out a short puff of hair in defeat. No such luck.

The man left them with their menus to carry on his post at the front.

"Well," Hermione said. "I suppose our mission had failed then."

Draco shrugged. Hermione looked a little dejected.

"You actually care about their date?" Draco asked tiredly.

"I told Ron—_and_ Daphne—that I'd be here to help out tonight. I set them up, so I'd feel terrible if things didn't work out," she said.

"It shouldn't work out just because you're there," Draco told her. "You can't plan to be with them every bloody time they go out."

"I don't," she insisted, "but I think we're their safety net. They think it will go smoothly if we're here."

"That's ridiculous," Draco said flatly.

"I know that," she told him, "but if that's what they believe then great."

"I'm really not following you here, Hermione."

She sighed and tried to collect her thoughts for a moment. "It's like a placebo," she explained. "We tell them us being here will make everything work out, they believe us being here will make it all work out and because of their consequential state of mind going into this it does work out.

We're not really the ones to thank but they are none the wiser."

"You think it's important that they see us and we see them?" Draco asked.

"Yes," Hermione replied simply.

"Really."

"I don't want to let them down," she said. "Daphne seems to genuinely like Ron."

Draco wondered if she was going to be this concerned about the redhead and his date all through dinner. He wasn't sure how he would handle that. He wasn't the most patient person. He had about two more minutes of rational responses in him before he snapped at his date and then stormed over to Weasley and Daphne to give them a piece of his mind.

"So it's imperative you sit in view of them?" Draco reiterated.

Hermione hummed. "I wouldn't say imperative," she began. "It would be preferred though. I mean, how much trouble could it really be for us to sit over _there_?" She gestured at the empty table she had pointed at before.

Draco resignedly sat a little taller to wave and get the attention of the maître d'. The man looked at them with disdain before smoothing his jacket and striding over to their table.

"Yes?" he asked tersely.

Draco held out a hand. "Draco Malfoy," he introduced.

The man stared at his outstretched hand with contempt. He shook the hand carefully. "Martin," he returned dryly. His unfriendly disposition suddenly shifted. "What can I do for you Mister Malfoy?"

Draco pointed at a table. "Martin," he said, "we'd like to sit over there."

Martin nodded formally. "Not a problem, sir," he assured.

He collected their menus. "Right this way."

Hermione's expression was stunned as she stood and Draco took her head and moved to let her walk ahead of him.

He grinned as he watched her. She was wearing a little black dress and the silver heels she had borrowed from Ginny for the ball. Her hair was clipped up high at the back of her head, the unruly curls springing over the clip like the ribbons curled atop of presents. The hairstyle wasn't very neat, not by a long shot, but she had hardly bothered to try and tame her mess of hair and the resulted look was kind of sexy. Draco liked it.

And that dress all but killed him.

The top of the dress hugged her torso smoothly with cap sleeves and a slight 'v' for a neckline. The skirt floated away from her body and ended just an inch or two above her knees. As she walked he could see her defined hips as they swayed from side to side. It was modest though. Hermione firmly believed in leaving some things to the imagination. Draco watched her walk towards her seat and smirked. Boy, did he have an imagination.

Hermione sat down and Draco followed suit. "Thank you, Martin," he said curtly.

"Thank you, Mister Malfoy," Martin said. "I do hope you find everything to your liking."

"We'll let you know if we don't," Draco told him.

The man laughed shortly. Hermione's brow furrowed as she couldn't quite fathom what the joke was there or if there even was one.

Draco turned to Hermione with a quick grin and the tall, older man took this as his dismissal. "Better?" Draco asked.

Hermione now had a clear view of Daphne and Ron and she met Ron's eyes with a slight nod and smile as she replied, "Much."

"Good," Draco said. "Now quit worrying about Ron and Daphne."

Hermione turned her attention to the man in front of her and smiled. "How'd you do that?" she asked.

Draco chuckled. "Ah," he said, "what's that saying…money speaks?"

"Money talks, actually," Hermione corrected. "You gave him money?"

"Yes," Draco replied easily.

"I didn't see…"

"Of course you didn't," Draco gave her a lopsided smirk.

"You sneak," Hermione said.

Draco shrugged off the accusation with a hint of pride.

"How do you do that with coins?" she asked incredulously.

"With both skill and practice," Draco told her.

"Quite the trick," Hermione commented.

"Comes in handy," he replied.

She opened her menu and began to scan the options. A moment or two later she looked up at him. "What are you having?" she asked.

"The sirloin here is amazing," he told her.

"Oh," she said, sounding slightly disappointed, "I couldn't possibly eat all of that though."

"Late lunch?" he guessed.

"I kept forgetting to change the sign," she admitted. "I ended up eating at three o'clock." She sighed and continued to read the menu.

The waiter came by and took their orders, Hermione deciding on a salad and Draco ordering his steak.

They talked while they waited for the food, Hermione telling him some crazy story about the first time she used magic by accident. Draco enjoyed watching her wide smile at the memory and her animated hands as she spoke, re-enacting the scene.

"I just couldn't believe—" Hermione started as someone tapped her shoulder.

"Sorry," Daphne apologized. "Could I speak with you in the ladies room a moment?"

"Do you mind?" Hermione asked Draco.

"He doesn't," Daphne said quickly, pulling Hermione from her seat.

She looked at Draco. "Go on," he said.

"Be right back," Hermione promised.

"Sorry," Daphne said again as she and Hermione walked down the short corridor to the loo. "It's just I told Ron I was going to the toilets and I don't want him to think something's wrong with me if I'm not back soon.

It dawned on Hermione then that Daphne didn't know that Ron knew that she was there. And Ron didn't know that Daphne had asked Hermione to be there as well.

"It's alright," Hermione allowed. "How's it going?"

"Great," Daphne said. "Thanks again for setting this up."

"No problem," Hermione replied.

"I don't know what to talk to him about," Daphne said. "He's not very talkative. He said more during the interview."

"That's because you were asking questions about him," Hermione said with a smile. "Get him talking about himself again. Or better yet," Hermione suggested, "get him talking about quidditch, then he'll never shut up."

"What team is he for?" Daphne asked.

"Cannons," Hermione answered.

"Not bad," Daphne considered. "Okay. I'll try that."

"He's probably nervous," Hermione added. "Tell him about yourself and make sure he gets to know _you_, okay?"

"Of course," Daphne assured. She moved to check her reflection in the large, gold, elaborately rimmed mirror.

Hermione squeezed the other girl's arm as she went for the door. "I hope things go well," she wished.

"Thanks, you too," Daphne returned.

Hermione gave her an odd look.

Daphne winked. "With Draco, I mean."

Hermione nodded uncertainly and left the room.

"Everything alright?" Draco asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Fine," she assured, sitting down and taking a sip of her water.

"Great," Draco said. "Why is Ron looking over here like that?"

Hermione looked over to see Ron, sure enough, giving her a strange look. "He doesn't know that Daphne was aware that I'd be here," she explained. "He's likely a bit confused is all."

She waved dismissively at Ron and the redhead nodded back.

"So," Hermione began, "is Juliet with Estelle then?"

Draco nodded.

The waiter appeared with their meals then and they thanked him shortly before he left and they tucked in.

"Can I ask you something?" Hermione didn't give him the chance to say that she just had as she pressed forward. "Did you ever plan on having kids?"

"No," Draco said.

"Never?" she asked, placing her fork down and reaching for her water.

"Never," Draco confirmed.

"Really?"

"Well, I suppose I had known I was expected to produce an heir eventually," he said. He cut into his steak and took a bite. It was perfection. "Aside from that," he continued, "no, never."

At her puzzled look he shrugged. "When you grow up in a…environment like I did, you're not too keen on the idea of family, alright?"

Hermione ate a bit of her salad with a quiet nod.

"What about you?" he asked.

"Always," she responded.

His eyebrows rose considerably at that. "Figures," he said finally.

"Oh?" she asked.

"Hermione Granger," he said by ways of explanation, "always leaps and bounds beyond her years."

"Hardly," she replied. "When I was younger I walked around with a baby doll, like many of the other girls my age. I pretended to feed her three times a day, read her stories, took her to the park with me, taught her everything I learned in school."

Draco gave her an incredulous look. "And you _were_ aware that she was _just_ a doll, correct?"

"Of course," Hermione affirmed. "But I was a little girl. My aspirations were to become something great and helpful to others, and to be a mother."

"Alongside whom?" he inquired.

"Now that's the part I hadn't put much thought into,"

He laughed. "Only you, you crazy bint."

She shot him a mock glare before taking a begrudging bite of her salad. "Well, it's that ideal plan, isn't it?" she said. "Get a stable job and career, find someone to settle down with and get married, have kids," she listed off simply.

"So when were you going to get started on this plan that's ever so ideal?" Draco questioned. "Because, as I recall, I found you at a job you hated, casually dating a man you weren't even attracted to and…well, you certainly weren't pregnant."

"I didn't _hate_ my job," she immediately protested, "I just wasn't a fan of it really. And if you're referring to Michael Gardner, then I'll have you know he is a really nice guy," she paused in her defense, trying to replay what he'd said. "Oh," she realized, "hm. No. Not pregnant."

He smirked. "So when does this plan go into action?"

"I don't know," she said with a smile. "I think I've finally gotten the job part right. As or the rest of it, well, if you ask my mother, I ought to be starting now. If you ask my father, I've got to wait until I'm thirty."

He grinned. "I'll be meeting your mother first then."

Hermione's mouth dropped open. She quickly chastised herself to snap it shut but she was still in a bit of shock. There were so many words pushing and shoving their way up her throat; she couldn't separate them to form coherent sentences.

Draco noted her barely touched salad. He gestured at his meal. "Do you want some?" he offered. He cut her a piece and placed it on her side plate. "It's seriously good," he said.

Hermione suddenly found her voice. "My mother?" she repeated.

"What about your mother?" Draco looked thoroughly confused.

"You said you'll be meeting my mother," she stated.

"I did," he agreed.

"What do you mean you'll be meeting my mother?" she asked.

Draco gave her a strange look. "That I'll be in the presence and making the acquaintance of your mother?"

Hermione's eyes were wide. "When?" she blurted without thought.

Draco laughed. "Well, I don't know," he said. "Eventually, I suppose."

"Eventually," she echoed. "You want to meet my parents?"

"Can't say I'll be looking forward to you father," he told her, "but yes."

"You want to meet my parents? Muggles?"

"Eventually," Draco said again. She stared at him. "I'm not saying we should go find them now, Hermione," he told her.

She nodded wordlessly.

"Calm down," he said, eating one of his roasted potatoes. He couldn't understand why she was behaving this way. If anyone should have been worried, it should have been him. He may not have hated muggles anymore, but he still wasn't entirely comfortable with the idea either. He wasn't exactly in his element around muggles. He should have been the one dreading it.

Hermione took a deep breath and told herself to stop being irrational. She looked around as she drummed her fingers on the napkin draped across her lap. She glanced at Draco. She really liked the dress shirt he was wearing. It was silk and a colour she couldn't distinguish to be gray, but she wouldn't be quick to say it was silver either. She _would_, however, without any doubt, say that he looked damn good in it. It fit him nicely, _very_ nicely indeed.

The warm glow from the pillars around them shone off of Draco's corn silk hair, and Hermione couldn't help but want to reach over and brush back the blonde strands that fell onto his forehead. He looked much too calm where he was and she couldn't understand why she was so jittery.

She smoothed imaginary creases from her dress and sat up a little taller. She nearly laughed as she thought back to how long she had spent in front of her closet that evening, contemplating what to wear only to finally settle on her plain black dress. Ginny always said, she'd reminded herself, you can never be under-dressed in your little black dress. Upon entering the restaurant she had surely hoped that was true, seeing how nice the place was. She knew Draco had picked it after ten minutes of listening to Ron debate with himself over where he should take Daphne.

Oh Merlin, she thought suddenly, this is a date, isn't it?

She voiced her thoughts and Draco laughed without reserve. Her expression remained wide-eyed and serious.

"I'm surprised it took you this long, you bright witch," he said in amusement.

"You planned this?" she demanded. "You sneaky little Slytherin."

"We prefer 'sly'," Draco commented.

"I can't believe you," she accused. "Was Ron in on this, too?"

Draco thought about it but he didn't really feel the need to turn her against her friend. She definitely wouldn't appreciate that. She might've gone storming in on the Weasley's oh so precious date. "No," he said, "he's just so ridiculously impressionable it's sad."

Hermione sighed. "You're incorrigible."

"Ah," Draco said, "that may be true, but you love me anyway."

She fell silent.

"Besides," he went on, "you're the one who wouldn't agree to a date otherwise."

"You never asked," she said. She continued on before he could contradict her. "You gave me a hypothetical question; I gave you a hypothetical answer."

His jaw set in aggravation at this.

She picked up her fork and held it poised over her plate as she met his gaze head-on.

"You're not really upset about this, are you?" he asked.

She emitted a soft sigh and a small smile came to grace her lips. "No," she answered.

"Good," Draco said dismissively.

He smirked, took a slow drink of his water, and lowered his glass to reveal that ever-present smirk to be even wider.

"What?" Hermione asked warily.

He raised his glass towards her with a wink. "I win," he told her simply.

* * *

Hermione quickly caught her bearings after the lingering feeling of apparating wore off. She carefully eased Ginny's heels from her feet and gave Draco and his shoes a pointed look.

"Right," Draco remembered aloud, kicking off his shoes and leaving them at the door.

Hermione went into the kitchen. "Would you like a cup of coffee?" she offered. "Tea?"

"No thanks," he declined.

She set the kettle down. He was wandering about her little living area, picking up and inspecting the framed pictures sitting atop her mantel.

He stared at the picture in his hands. It was magical, and showed Hermione and Harry with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. They were grinning crazily at the camera. Draco shook his head as they laughed and Hermione slung an arm around a younger Harry's shoulders. He placed the picture back on the mantel.

Hermione walked over to where Draco was and adjusted the picture to sit straight, just the way it was before he had toyed with it.

"Dessert?" she asked.

"Don't mind if I do," he said.

Draco bent and pressed his lips to hers, slipping an arm around her waist and pulling her upwards. She stood on her toes so he didn't need to bend quite so much. His lips moved against hers softly for a moment before she pulled away.

"As nice as that was," she breathed, returning her heels to the ground and looking up at him, "I was thinking more along the lines of pie or cake."

"Damn," he swore with a smile.

She took his hand. "Feel like going for a walk?"

He shrugged and she pulled him towards the door. He sighed as he had to put his shoes back on.

Pulling her pea-coat from the closet, Hermione cursed the nippy weather and opted to leave the heels behind in favour of her flats.

"Where are we going?" Draco questioned.

"There's a patisserie down the street," she replied. She rummaged through her bag a moment before producing her keys, suddenly realizing how rarely she used her front door.

Apparating was so much faster, albeit a little unpleasant.

She locked the door behind them and pulled Draco along, down the corridor, two flights of stairs and through the building's lobby. Once they had reached the sidewalk she slowed and pointed ahead. "It's right up there," she said.

He nodded. "Did you notice how surprised your doorman was to see you?"

"No, why?"

"You don't go out much, do you?"

"I apparate. Much more efficient."

"Why don't you use a…the muggle mobile," he said.

"A car?" Hermione asked.

"That," Draco agreed. "I had one of those. Went insanely fast. Got into a wreck though."

"You had a car?" Hermione said in disbelief.

Draco rolled his eyes. "For five weeks. Although, Zabini even got a kick out of it, despite its muggle-ness."

Hermione laughed. "Wish I could have been there." She grinned.

Draco shook his head. "I nearly snapped my neck and Blaise practically flew through the roof!"

"It probably would have helped to know how to drive," Hermione commented.

"At least I have an excuse," Draco said. "You grew up in the muggle world. You haven't got a car."

"Actually," she said, "I've got a license and know how to drive, mostly for when I visit my parents. I never bought a car simply because I have little use for one."

"Oh." Draco sounded rather defeated at that.

A moment of companionable silence or two later they arrived in front of the shop.

Draco nodded at the door in question and Hermione nodded back in confirmation. He pulled open the door and Hermione thanked him as she walked in.

It wasn't terribly busy. Two of the four, small café tables were occupied. One by a middle-aged woman and her laptop, the other by a couple that was getting ready to leave.

It was quiet, too, nearing the shop's closing time. The display case was nearly empty of the usual abundance of desserts.

She and Draco approached the counter and peered through the glass.

Hermione looked up as someone came sauntering out from the back to the counter. "Can I help you?" they asked.

"Hi," Hermione greeted with a smile.

"Hey," Charlie said, grinning as he recognized her, "…er…Granger!" He looked thoughtful. "Hermia?" he guessed.

"Hermione," she corrected. You were close though."

Charlie gave her a sheepish smile. He appeared much more awake than when she had last seen him, she noted. He was also wearing a dark blue button down underneath his white apron.

She was about to mention his rather formal wear for work when Draco cleared his throat pointedly from behind her.

"Oh!" Hermione exclaimed, apologizing for her poor manners. "Charlie, this is my—" she stumbled a second, "Draco," she finished. Charlie looked like he was hiding a laugh at her fumble. Quickly she added, "Draco, this is Charlie; he lives in my building."

They acknowledged each other briefly.

"I'm yours then, am I?" Draco asked, speaking in a low tone that only Hermione could hear.

She blushed as she ignored him and requested a slice of blueberry cheesecake. Draco got chocolate mousse and Charlie began to set both desserts on plates. They looked delectable.

Hermione paid before Draco had the chance and gave him a self-satisfied smile as he shook his head at her. He had paid for dinner after all; she figured she was entitled to treating him to dessert. She accepted the plates from Charlie, thanked him, and then went to sit at one of the tables.

"Is there a loo here?" Draco asked.

Hermione nodded, pointing to a door that was kind of hidden off to the side. He excused himself from the table politely, and Hermione stared at her cake. She'd wait until he came back, she decided.

Charlie leaned over the counter to address her discreetly in a whisper. "Is that the bloke?" he asked, eyebrows raised.

"Pardon?" she asked, but she had heard him.

"Is that the bloke you were taking the cakes to?" he repeated.

"Um, yes, actually, that's him."

Charlie grinned. "Are you two on a date?"

"Apparently," Hermione replied.

"It all worked out then." Charlie nodded.

She smiled at the boy. "I'm surprised you remember."

He shrugged in response. "There was a baby…wasn't there?" he asked.

"Juliet," Hermione supplied. "Yes, she's with her nanny at the moment though."

Charlie gestured at her fully intact slice of cake. "Something wrong?" he asked.

"Oh, no," Hermione said immediately. "No. Draco's just in the loo. I'm just waiting for him."

Charlie nodded as the woman packed up her laptop and left the shop. He checked his watch before following behind her to flip the sign on the door. The 'OPEN' side now faced Hermione.

"I'm sorry," she said as Draco came back to the table. "Charlie, if you have to go, we're more than happy to take these to go."

Draco didn't sit down while Hermione awaited an answer.

Charlie shook his head. "I'm in no hurry. You two take your time."

"You look rather dressed up," she commented. "You're sure you don't have to be somewhere?"

He looked down at what he was wearing as he took off his apron. "This?" he asked. "No, this is what I always bake in," he joked.

Hermione laughed. Draco was growing tired of trying to decide whether or not to sit down.

"I promised my mother I'd stop by her friend's dinner party after work," he explained. "So, really, I'm in no hurry. I'm going to go clean up the back."

He disappeared back into the kitchen and Draco finally took his seat across from Hermione. "Mmm," Hermione hummed contentedly as she took her first bite. It was scrumptious.

They could hear the clatter of utensils and white noise of running water from the kitchen in the silence. They could also hear Charlie's loud cussing as something fell with a clang. Hermione looked a little startled. Draco looked a little amused. "Alright back there?" Draco asked at Hermione's quick look.

"Fine—shit!" There was a dull thud. "Just fine," Charlie drawled.

Hermione then deemed it okay to laugh lightly at the situation. She looked up at Draco with a smile and offered him a bite of her cake. Eating it, he nodded, impressed.

"So," Hermione started as she came down to only having half of her cake left, "um, where are we in all of this?"

Draco sighed, finished his chocolate mousse and pushed the dish away from him. "You tell me," he said finally, almost sounding smug about it.

For a long stretch of silence Hermione didn't say anything. She merely contemplated her words carefully before she said them. The seconds felt like hours for Draco before he saw the decidedness settle into her expression and she opened her mouth to speak.

"I like being with you," she told him. "A lot. I…I—"

"Love?"

They both turned to the voice quickly. Charlie looked as surprised as they did; eyes wide as he slowly backed his way into the kitchen. "Sorry," he said. "Sorry, I'm not here."

Draco raised an eyebrow at him.

Charlie's mouth twisted as he felt the impending awkwardness of the situation. "Ah…" he said, "if it helps, she told me herself." He paused. "That she loves _you_. Not me. _You_." He rubbed his forehead tiredly before jabbing a thumb in the direction of the kitchen. "I'm not here," he said again. "I'm not here."

Hermione laughed, turning back to Draco. "He's right. I do love you. And, um…I'm _in_ love with you." She reached over and placed a hand over his. "Maybe you love me as well?" she suggested.

He lifted her hand and kissed it affectionately. "You know I do."

She waited.

And waited.

Her eyes narrowed and her lips pursed as she slowly drew her hand away.

He quickly tightened his hold and pulled her forward rather suddenly. She found herself leaning halfway across the table, staring into his serious grey eyes. She barely noticed the small grin on his lips as her gaze stayed locked on those eyes, those astonishing grey eyes. "Hey," he said, "I love you, too."

* * *

**A/N: Hello readers! You want to hear a long a boring story? I've been without a computer for the past week and a bit so I hand wrote this entire chapter before I got my laptop back and then typed the entire thing up today. So I apologize for any and all mistakes that they are in this. Kindly point them out please, though I will read over it again tomorrow and try and fix them myself as well. **

**Please share your thoughts with me and review!**

**Anyways,**

**Scarlett**


	30. Chapter 30

"Hermione, do you know where my briefcase is?"

"Quiet!" Hermione snapped, appearing at the bottom of the staircase, looking up at the man leaning over the banister. "I _just_ got her down for her nap."

Draco winced. "Ah." She crossed her arms and looked at him expectantly. "You know where my briefcase is?"

She sighed. "Did you check the living room?"

He nodded.

"Under the table in your room?"

He straightened. He hadn't thought of there. Hermione shook her head as he left the banister and disappeared to his bedroom. Hermione began to head into the sitting room. "Not there!" Draco announced, resuming his lean over the railing.

"_Shhh_," Hermione hissed. "Did I not _just _tell you—"

"Right," Draco said, lowering his voice. "Briefcase isn't there and Blaise and I have a meeting in twenty minutes."

Estelle passed by. "What are we looking for?"

"His briefcase," Hermione said.

"We found it beside the—" Estelle began.

Hermione shook her head. "No, again. He's lost his briefcase, _again._"

"Misplaced," Draco corrected, loping his way down the stairs, "not lost."

Estelle pulled her cardigan straight. "Did you check the sitting room?"

"Yes."

"Your bedroom?"

"Yes_._"

"Your study?" Hermione and Estelle asked together.

"_Yes_," Draco said. "You think that would be the _first_ place I'd check."

"Don't get snippy," Hermione told him, pulling out her wand.

"Sorry," Draco said quickly, hands up in defense and eyes trained on her wand.

"What?" Hermione said in confusion. "Oh, I'm not going to hex you. I just… _Accio—" _

"Oh. Tried that," he cut in.

"Where did you last see it?"

Draco paused. "I don't know. Sometime yesterday." He checked his watch. "Look, I'm running late. I'll go without it."

Hermione snapped her fingers, the idea suddenly hitting her. "We stopped by my flat yesterday after I left the shop. You had your briefcase with you."

His head fell back in exasperation. "Of course."

"You can apparate right in," she said, waving him away. "Now hurry before Blaise chews you out."

"I'm _his_ boss."

"So?"

Draco leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers. "What time do you get off?"

"Shop closes at six. But I'm training Cory today so I might be later."

"Right. Cory. He…" Draco waited for a reaction. "She…" he tried. He gave up, "starts today."

Hermione laughed. "Cory is a _girl_, Draco."

He tried to hide his relief. Hermione had become fairly good at reading the man before her though and caught the look of 'Thank Merlin,' that passed across his features. She reached up and tugged his tie. "Don't you worry," she said.

He looked indifferent. "I'm not," he said.

"I love you, too," Hermione returned. "Now go before you're late."

Draco nodded and prepared to apparate. "Bye, Estelle, I'll be back by about one." He began to wave his wand before pausing. He closed his eyes; he was forgetting something. "The cream," he said. "When you change Julie, remember to use the one in white container, not the blue, she had a reaction—"

"To the one in the _white_," Hermione interrupted. "Which is why we need to use the one in the blue container."

"No," Draco contradicted, "it was the—"

"White," Hermione said.

"Blue."

"White."

"Blue."

"_White_."

"Blue."

"Neither of us has time for this," Hermione declared, "and we're not testing out both theories on Juliet. So, Estelle you go ahead and use the white one. He's probably right."

"Thank you," Draco said.

"See you later," Hermione sang.

Once he had disapparated Hermione turned to Estelle. Before she could even open her mouth Estelle had guessed, "Use the blue one?"

"Of course," Hermione replied simply, heading towards the fireplace.

"We'll be seeing you later as well Hermione?"

She smiled. "Most likely."

"Have a nice day," Estelle wished.

"You, too."

* * *

November flew by for Hermione and Draco. Juliet, too, for that matter. It seemed the trees had changed colour long ago and were now beginning to lose their leaves. Over the past two weeks everyone had steadily been growing layers. First it was long sleeves, cardigans, jumpers. Then they were wrapped up in jackets, pulling on warm socks, tugging on boots. And by now, what Hermione had officially declared that morning to be the coldest day yet, they were swathed in scarves, their hands tucked in mittens, heads topped off with hats. Draco imagined there couldn't possibly _be_ any more layers to put on as he made sure to keep a good grip on the bundle that was twice the regular size of his daughter and could barely close his hand around Hermione's.

Hermione held the baby bag in the crook of her elbow as she and Draco approached the quaint house. "Are you sure about this?" she asked for the umpteenth time.

Draco was becoming exasperated. "Seriously?" he asked. "Hermione, your mother invited me herself."

Hermione turned to look at him, giving him a pointed look. "Only because you snatched the phone right out of my hand and rhapsodized about how much you were looking forward to meeting her. I'm surprised she didn't hang up on you."

"Why?" Draco said. "I'm a delightful person."

"You were practically yelling at her through the phone," Hermione reminded.

"Well, if _you_ had mentioned me, I wouldn't have had to talk to her myself," Draco insisted. He would have liked to pretend it hadn't bruised him in any way to hear the one-sided conversation Hermione had, neglecting to tell her mother about him. But he was Draco Malfoy. He had taken matters, or rather phones, into his own hands.

Hermione rolled her eyes. They had had this conversation before. "I'm sorry," she said, yet again. "I told you, my mother is a meddling hopeless romantic. I just don't want her trying to…I don't know…push too much. She has all these ideas of the relationship I should have and—"

"I don't fit the criteria?" Draco cut in.

"I don't know," Hermione said.

He turned to her, eyebrows raised, waiting for her eyes to meet his. "What do you mean you don't know?" he asked. "If you don't know, what are we even doing here?"

"_I_ know I love you," Hermione assured. "Just because my mother has some grand idea of the kind of man I should be with, doesn't mean I agree with her." She smiled at him and reached a mitten clad hand up to touch his cool cheek. In her short-heeled boots she managed to place a brief kiss on his cool skin. "You're my grand idea," she told him lightly, moving to, by some miracle, find an inch or two of Juliet that wasn't covered. She kissed the tip of the little girl's nose.

Draco smiled and Juliet yawned. It was about time for her nap.

They soon reached the front door of the house and Hermione, with a bit of skill, managed to press the small button for the bell without taking off her mittens. A moment later the door swung open and they were greeted by woman who looked just like Hermione.

As the woman pulled them over the threshold and into the warm house, shutting the door behind them, Draco immediately began to notice the similarities. They were both petite women. However, as Hermione was drawn into a tight hug by her mother, the three inches Hermione had over her mother became obvious to Draco. He could also see just where Hermione got her wildly curly hair. Mrs. Granger's hair was much shorter than Hermione's, only barely reaching chin-length; it was therefore even curlier than her daughter's because of how light it was. Her roots were slightly grey as well but it made her appear more relaxed and serene than anything else. Draco thought of his own mother. She would never let anyone see her looking less than immaculate.

He left his shoes at the door before angling himself so he could offer his free hand to the small woman. In doing so, he allowed Mrs. Granger's eyes to finally land on the bundle he had held on his hip. Her eyes widened. She seemed to collect herself in a snap though as she cooed, "And who would this be?"

Draco's head whipped from Hermione back to her mother. "This is Juliet," Draco said, "my daughter." He held out a hand once again. "I'm Draco Malfoy, by the way."

She shook his hand politely. "Elaine Granger. Pleasure to meet you," she said. "Hermione's told me all about you."

Draco wasn't sure if this was a good thing or not. He chose to believe the former. Although, honestly, he thought the statement as a whole was probably a lie. "Likewise," he returned.

"Well," Mrs. Granger stated. She took a deep breath. "Let's get you all out of your coats and you can stay a while, yes?" She focused on Juliet. "I'm sure you're just precious if I could just see you," she said. "How old is she?"

"Six months," Draco supplied.

Hermione traded the baby bag for the baby and began to unwrap the little girl from her many layers. Juliet's cheeks were rosy from the chilly weather and she was already drifting asleep. As Hermione eased her out of her jacket and booties, she slipped off her own coat as well. Draco took her coat and helped Mrs. Granger put them away in the closet while Juliet fell fast asleep in Hermione's arms.

"Where's Dad?" Hermione asked.

"He went to the market for salad fixings," her mother replied. She checked the time. "He should be back any minute now."

Hermione nodded. "Okay." She could tell the wheels in her mother's head were turning and she was itching to ask questions. "Mum, I'm going to go sit with Juliet. Maybe you'd give Draco a tour of the house?"

Mrs. Granger turned the young man. "Certainly," she agreed.

Draco shot Hermione a quick look as he followed her mother into the kitchen.

"Oh Merlin," Hermione groaned as she sat down on the sofa, her head falling back on cushion behind her. She closed her eyes for a few moments.

It's fine, she told herself. Everything was fine. Her mother had been caught off guard, that's all. Things would be fine. Draco would be polite and pleasant, Juliet would be sure to soften everyone up, and Hermione would keep the conversation running smoothly. No problem. Just fine.

She was shaken out of her very unconvincing assurances by the sound of the front door opening. She sat up and leaned forward carefully with the baby in her arms, trying to get a glimpse of her father coming through the door.

"Dad?" she called softly.

She saw the greying head of her father poke around the door frame. "Is that _my_ daughter I hear?" he asked.

Hermione smiled and heard more than saw him leave his grocery bags on the floor to come into the living room. He went to hug her but stopped short and stepped back as he noticed the small somebody in her arms. "And _whose_ daughter is _that_?" he asked, his voice stern as he stared down his little girl.

"Draco's," Hermione replied, whispering pointedly, hoping her father would take the hint and not wake Juliet.

"She couldn't possibly be _yours_." Mr. Granger waited for either confirmation or contradiction from his daughter.

Hermione shook her head. "No, Dad," she told him.

Her father nodded. "I don't recall you ever mentioning the boy having a child."

She looked up guiltily. "Sorry. I suppose I did forget to mention that."

Her dad snorted at that but nodded again nonetheless. "Forget. How convenient. Where is the boy?"

"Draco is probably upstairs right now," she said. "Mum was giving him a tour of the house."

"Great." Her dad leaned down and hugged her, patted her knee and then went back out to the hallway. "I'm going to put these groceries away before your mother comes back down and has a conniption."

A minute or two later Mr. Granger sat back next to her on the couch. "So what is the story behind this little girl then?" he asked.

"Juliet," Hermione started, "she's Draco's daughter."

"Is he divorced?"

"No." She shook her head. "Juliet's mother, Pansy, was his ex-girlfriend. They were friends though. She…she passed away in labour."

"That's too bad," her dad said sincerely.

Hermione nodded wordlessly.

"Now, tell me," he continued, "is this Draco Mal…for?"

"Malfoy," Hermione corrected.

"The same Malfoy you talked about all through school? And, if I remember correctly, never good things?"

Hermione swallowed and nodded. "Quite the memory you have," she commented.

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and squeezed. "I remember well enough. However, I don't think Mum does."

"She doesn't know?" Hermione asked.

Mr. Granger adjusted his glasses and shook his head no. "She's been running around like a chicken with her head cut off since yesterday. She was quite excited to meet this Draco."

Hermione laughed humorlessly. "Of course."

"Sweetheart, you know she means well." Hermione felt like a little girl again as her dad squeezed her shoulder and hugged her against his side. No matter how tall she got the feeling of being utterly _small_ in her father's arms would never cease. It was comforting.

She smiled up at him. "Dad," she said, "I should warn you, Draco isn't use to anything too…_non-magical_."

"Non-magical?"

She nodded. "He's a pureblood."

"Oh," he said, "I remember these tales."

She laughed. "Yes. Well, he's changed, but he may be a tad ignorant when it comes to some things."

"Ah," her dad replied in understanding. "How long have you been seeing this boy?"

Hermione was surprised at how many answers and questions flew into her mind from such a simple inquiry. If he meant 'seeing' as simply, well, _seeing_ then the answer could range anywhere from four to six months. If he meant 'seeing' as in dating, well that she didn't know how to answer. A few weeks? A month or two?

"I don't—"

"You have a lovely home, Mrs. Granger."

Hermione heard his voice as he and her mother came back downstairs. Both she and her father turned towards the conversation in the corridor. Something else was said as well but it was too indistinct for Hermione to make out. She did however hear her mother's lilting laughter ring out in the corridor.

They came strolling into the living room and Draco shot Hermione a grin.

"Dad, this is Draco," Hermione said obligingly, "and Draco, this is my father."

They only had a moment to acknowledge each other before Mrs. Granger had unintentionally stepped between them, oohing and ahh-ing over the baby girl's sweet expression.

She looked down at the little girl in Hermione's arms and smiled fondly. "They're angels when they're sleeping."

"It's the getting them asleep that's the tricky part," Draco said. "You've only seen her at her best."

Elaine laughed. "It only gets better dear, honestly. Although, I'm speaking from the experience of raising one daughter. Hermione wasn't much trouble."

"Really?" Draco said.

Hermione gave him a dark look but his grin just persisted on.

"No trouble at all really," her mother continued. "At least, not until we put her in school. Then we were getting calls from all of her teachers. Every week. It was Hermione correcting the other students' work. Hermione asking the teachers too many questions. Asking questions they couldn't answer. Hermione reading ahead of the class."

Draco tried to form the loud chortles he withheld into polite chuckles. He managed a very loud cough over his laughter, composing himself to a smile just in time to hear the _ding_ of a timer in the kitchen go off.

"The roast!" Elaine exclaimed. "Hermione, help get dinner on the table?"

"Sure, Mum." She handed Juliet off to Draco carefully. The smile slipped from his face as he realized who that left him with.

As Hermione went off to the kitchen with her mum Draco turned to her father warily. He took it upon himself to now outstretch a hand. "Hello, Mr. Granger."

Mr. Granger shook the younger man's hand, rather firmly, but he was begrudgingly impressed by both Draco's manners and handshake.

"Hello." Mr. Granger sat back on the couch. Draco noticed the fact that he didn't tell him to call him Paul, not the way Mrs. Granger had instructed him to call her Elaine.

"So," Mr. Granger began, "I understand _you're_ Draco Malfoy. The Draco Malfoy who tormented my daughter and her friends?"

Draco visibly winced. "I'm afraid so," he agreed. "Back in school I was a bit of an ar—well, excuse the language, sir, but I was a bit of an arse."

Mr. Granger nodded. "So I've heard."

Draco held back a sigh. Hermione's mum was one thing, the woman really was a hopeless romantic; she wasn't all that difficult to crack. Her father however, well, Draco would have rather had his teeth pulled out one by one. And, according to Hermione, Mr. Granger was in the profession to make that happen.

The man was staring him down challengingly and it was making Draco feel uneasy. He held Juliet a little closer, adjusting her in his arms to distract himself. He took a deep breath. He wasn't scared. He could handle this.

"Yes, sir," he said. "I really was awful to Hermione and her friends back in school. Fortunately, she was willing to give me a second chance. Pot—Harry and Ron, too."

"I've always wondered if our Hermione was _too_ forgiving."

Draco got the message loud and clear. "Well, I'm very lucky to have a second chance with her," he told him, "I don't intend to waste it."

This seemed to mollify Mr. Granger. "Now, where does this little one fit in?" he asked, referring to Juliet.

"Ah…she's my daughter. Her mother passed away when she was born. Hermione took pity on me and helped me out, I suppose."

Her father nodded slowly. "Draco, how long have you been seeing my daughter?"

The realization that he didn't actually know hit him like a tonne of bricks. He bought himself a moment of time. "Pardon?"

"Well, Hermione didn't seem to know. I thought maybe you would."

"A…a few months," Draco replied.

"You don't sound so sure yourself."

Draco laughed nervously. "It was complicated."

* * *

"Why didn't you tell me he had a daughter?" Mrs. Granger demanded

"I didn't?"

"Hermione Jean Granger, don't you dare lie to me," her mother warned. "I'm not quite that old yet."

Hermione sighed as she set the last fork perfectly parallel to knife beside it. Her mum was tossing the salad at the counter and as Hermione moved to put the roast on the table she looked over her shoulder at her. "I'm sorry, I really just…forgot."

"Really."

"Yes. It's just so normal now I forget that it's something to mention."

"Sweetheart, just how long have you been doing this?" her mum asked. "Do you know how much responsibility a baby requires?"

"I'm quite aware, Mum."

"Sweetie, it's more than just having someone absolutely precious to hold and play with."

"I know," Hermione said, getting a little annoyed now.

"Do you know how much it costs to raise a baby? How much commitment?"

"Mum, we're dating, not married. And I love both of them."

"Hermione," her mum started, "I'm not saying you don't."

"And, trust me, Draco has plenty of money to support a child. Probably enough to support a dozen actually. And between the two of us and Estelle, Juliet won't go a single minute without undivided attention," Hermione assured.

"Who is Estelle?"

"She's the nanny Draco hired."

"He hired a nanny?"

"Yes. She's a wonderful woman; mostly she just cares for Juliet while Draco works." Hermione took the salad from her mother and set it on the table. Dinner was ready now, but they both knew they weren't calling Draco and her father into the dining room quite yet.

"You're serious about this?"

Hermione nodded. "I brought him here, didn't I?"

"Actually, I believe Draco and I arranged his coming here."

"Mum."

"Alright, alright." She went to the sink and washed her hands of the matter. "Would you go ask your father and Draco to join us, please?"

"Sure."

* * *

Dinner was fairly quiet.

Hermione nudged Draco subtly while her parents were busy discussing Mrs. Whitworth's root canal appointment.

"My dad wasn't too…hostile was he?" she asked.

"No," Draco replied curtly.

"Oh, good."

They ate quietly.

Draco swiveled abruptly in his chair towards her. His voice was low. "You didn't tell your parents I have a child?"

Her cheeks flamed. She shook her head. "I'm sorry. I didn't even mean—I forgot."

"You_ forgot_? You just _forgot_ Juliet existed?" he asked incredulously.

"No!" she whispered fervently. "Juliet is such a normal part of my life now. A _wonderful_ part of my life. I forget that not everyone else is as adjusted and aware of this as I am." She squeezed his hand reassuringly. "Honestly."

"So, Draco," Mrs. Granger began, "what is you do?"

"Well, I was working at the ministry for a while. I resigned a little while ago however. I'm doing a lot of investing right now, and that seems to be going well. Other than that, I'm working on being a father," Draco said.

Hermione's mother seemed pleased by this as she smiled and nodded.

Her father, on the other hand, narrowed his eyes. "So, you're not working anymore?"

"No, sir, just a bit of investing. My friend and I are working on it."

"Your friend? They're not employed either."

"No, sir," Draco replied. "He found that week days and desk work were not his calling."

"I see."

"And your parenting skills seem to be coming along well then," Mrs. Granger commented. "Juliet seems happy and healthy."

"Work in progress," Draco admitted, "but yes, I've vastly improved certainly."

"She's six months old now, correct?" Mr. Granger asked.

"Yeah." Draco nodded.

"Interesting."

"So," Draco began uncomfortably, "Hermione's told me that you're dentists? That's like a healer for teeth, isn't it?"

Mrs. Granger turned to Hermione who nodded slightly. "I suppose so," her mum replied.

Draco tried his best to look interested. "Really?" he managed. "Now, what is that like?"

Oh, Merlin, Hermione thought. She glanced at the clock. The seconds were not passing fast enough.

* * *

**A/N: Okay, I'm not feeding you my excuses. I'm sorry for the delay and I'm sorry for how choppy or disappointing this chapter may be. **

**Anyways,**

**Scarlett**


	31. Chapter 31

Hermione let out a deep sigh and relaxed in her chair as Draco disappeared with Juliet and her changing bag.

She closed her eyes for a minute before sitting up quickly, focusing on her father. "Dad," she said, "what was that?"

"Excuse me?"

Hermione took a deep breath and controlled her voice to a less accusing tone. "Are you just looking for a reason to dislike Draco?" she asked.

Her father looked down at his hands. "No," he answered finally. "I have quite a few, there's no need to go looking."

"Dad!" Hermione exclaimed. "What are—?"

"I'm kidding," he said.

Hermione wasn't sure she fully believed him but she accepted the answer. "So what was that then?" she questioned.

"Hermione, you should be careful with him."

"I am careful."

"Sweetheart, I don't think your father was insinuating that you're care_less_ in any way," Elaine began.

Her dad nodded. "Of course not, sweetie. Just understand that dating a man with a child isn't to be taken…"

While her father searched for a word, Hermione took it upon herself to fill the silence. "That's what this is?" she said incredulously. "It's because he has a daughter? That's why you're behaving this way?"

"You're taking this the wrong way," Mr. Granger said calmly.

"Oh?" Hermione met both her parents' eyes deliberately. "And what way shall I take it then?"

Her mum leaned forward, the caring clear in her eyes. "Dear, getting involved with Draco is one thing but getting involved with him and his daughter is a whole other. I can see it in your eyes, darling."

Hermione sat back, clearly confused. "I'm sorry?"

"Hermione, I'm your mother, and I know you better than anyone else. I can read you like a book. And you know what I see? I see love. You love that little girl like she's your own."

Hermione couldn't bring herself to deny it but something felt so wrong about confirming it. Juliet had a mother. Pansy. Who was to say that Pansy wouldn't have been a wonderful mother to Juliet? How was Hermione supposed to fill the place of woman who was never even given the chance? The odds may have been against Pansy and Hermione did believe that things happened for a reason, but her mother's statement struck a chord within her and brought about an emotion she couldn't place.

"You're very much attached. To both of them," her mum said. "We only worry that you're not seeing the entire picture."

"Which would be?" Hermione prompted.

"That relationships don't always last," her dad explained. "And you'd be losing more than just Draco."

Hermione smiled. "Well, then I suppose we'll just have to make it last," she said, "since I can't stand to lose either of them."

Draco willed Juliet to remain as quiet as she had been thus far as he stood just around the kitchen doorframe, listening to the conversation transpiring through the wall.

He kissed the top of Juliet's head and smirked. "Hear that Julie?" he just barely whispered. "That just seals it," he said. "She's not going anywhere. And we're not letting her."

* * *

Hermione eased the nursery door to being almost closed, turning quietly to head down the corridor when she ran into Estelle.

The older woman smiled. "I'm beginning to think you all don't need me anymore," she commented.

Hermione shook her head. They both knew the statement was untrue, but it was a compliment really. They were beyond managing now. They were doing wonderfully. Estelle had definitely taken notice of this.

"Oh, Estelle," Hermione said, "we need you. We most definitely need you."

Estelle embraced the girl before her. She had become quite fond of Hermione actually. Estelle hadn't any children of her own. She'd been widowed fairly early in her marriage but she was quite comfortable on her own. Hermione was sort of what she pictured a daughter of her own to be like. Intelligent, kind, graceful and admirably strong.

"Well," she said, "I have no complaints about being here. I'm happy to stay so long as you need me."

"I'm glad," Hermione replied, returning the smile.

"I'm off to bed," Estelle told her softly. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Estelle."

"Goodnight," a voice chimed in behind them. They turned to see Draco, now clad in his pyjama pants and a white t-shirt.

"Goodnight," Estelle said once again before retiring to her room.

Draco turned to Hermione, gesturing to the door she'd just come through. "Didn't have too much trouble getting her asleep?" he asked.

"Not at all," Hermione responded. "She looked about as exhausted as I feel. She was fast asleep within seconds."

He nodded. "Sorry I didn't help…"

She began to protest. "No, it's okay. She's not that hard to handle."

It was silent for a moment as she stared at the man before her. His grey eyes were wide, the pale blonde hair that grew longer to cover his forehead was slightly wet, hinting at the fact that he'd just hit himself with a splash of cold water. He somehow succeeded in looking both wide awake and worn out at the same time.

She laughed quietly.

"What?" he asked, noticing her stare and running a hand over his hair.

"Nothing," Hermione told him. She paused. "Thank you so much for coming to dinner tonight."

"You're thanking me?" he asked. "I invited myself."

"It was important to me," she said, "you knew that. Thank you. And I know my father isn't the easiest person to…impress at first."

"Really?" Draco feigned surprise. "I hadn't noticed."

"I'm sure tonight wasn't easy for you," she continued, "so I just wanted to say thank you. And…my parents don't really dislike you. In fact, my mother was quite taken by you. They're just a little protective. After everything I've gone through in this world and leaving them out of the loop for so long, they've got a bit of a right to be. I can't blame them."

Draco couldn't disagree with her.

"Well, thank you," Hermione said again. "It meant a lot to me."

"You're very welcome."

She closed the distance between them and pulled him down towards her to press a warming kiss against his lips. He bent obligingly. She let out a small sigh as she began to pull away, as Draco's arms wound around her waist and pulled her even closer. She didn't protest.

Her smaller frame was flush against his body as he tangled his hand in her hair and his thumb stroked back and forth over the soft skin above her hip, just under the hem of her blouse, setting the steady pace at which their lips moved against each other. His tongue swept languidly over her bottom lip and her lips parted softly to allow him entrance.

Her hands traced over his shoulders and arms and then slipped around to outline the contours of his back through the soft material of his t-shirt. A quiet breath escaped her as his lips left hers and he took the opportunity to continue his ministrations along her jawline. He trailed kisses down her neck before moving back up and brushing his lips against the small concaved area behind her ear. She shivered at the sensation, tilting her head back unconsciously, giving him the space for a better angle. Quite enjoying the reaction he got from her, Draco kissed the spot once again, nipping at her earlobe while he was at it.

She gasped.

He looked at her. "You want to stay the night?" he asked, a little out of breath.

Hermione froze and tensed a bit in his arms. "Um...no," she said. "No. I should go home."

Draco looked bewildered and concerned. "Hermione—"

"I'm sorry," she said. "I'm-I'm going to go home."

"Hermione." He caught her arm as she began to walk away. "Hold on." He pulled her back to him. "Why are you apologizing?"

"I'm…I'm not…"

"You've got nothing to apologize for," Draco said. He waited until his eyes locked firmly on hers. "Why are you in such a hurry to leave now?"

"I…I need to take things slowly," Hermione told him.

Draco nodded at her, expelling a long breath.

"I'm sorry," she repeated.

"Stop that," he ordered, gently moving them away from the nursery door. "Stop apologizing." He paused. "Hermione, are you—"

"Draco," she cut in, "I'm just going to go home. I'll see you tomorrow."

He couldn't let her go. Not like this. "Wait. You can still stay the night," he said. "You've stayed before."

She looked away. "I don't think—"

"Please," he added imploringly. "It won't be any different."

That 'please' was what did it. "Okay," she agreed.

He took her hand in his and began to lead her down the corridor. "Come on," he said.

She soon found them in Draco's bedroom and she was watching him go into a drawer to find the t-shirt and sweatpants she'd worn the last time she'd spent an unexpected night in the manor. He handed them to her and conveniently disappeared into the en suite while she changed. She took this to assume she'd be sleeping in his room for a second time now.

Hermione pretended not to notice as she saw Draco emerge from the loo slowly and rather noisily considering how soundless he usually was. She appreciated it, though there was no need really, she had been sure to change quickly and was completely decent when he came back into the room.

Draco gave her a smile as he strode over and turned down the bed.

Hermione got in wordlessly and assumed the position she usually slept in, however she felt strangely uncomfortable. Draco slipped in beside her and she smiled at him quietly.

Draco waved his wand and the lamp across the room went out, leaving them in darkness.

"Hermione," he began.

"Draco," she countered. "Goodnight."

"Are you a virgin?" he asked.

She was quiet for a prolonged amount of time. "How much does it matter?"

"I don't know," Draco said. "It does matter though. Will you give me an answer?"

"Yes."

"Yes?" he repeated.

"Yes, I'm a virgin."

His eyes adjusted to the darkness as he focused on her. She lay staring up at the ceiling, her hands folded over her abdomen, her body straight and rigid. She felt uneasy in his silence.

Draco ran through the possibilities. "Not even Ron?" he asked.

Hermione would have laughed had it not been so dark and silent. "No," she said. "Almost. But it was too weird. Too strange. He was Ron and we just…weren't supposed to be that way."

"Almost?" Draco echoed questioningly.

"Almost," she repeated, blushing in the darkness. "But never quite."

It was still except for the rustle of the sheets as Draco turned onto his side and moved a little closer to her. She continued to stare up at the ceiling, a rush of warmth flooding through her as she felt his gaze on her, his silence nearly palpable.

"Well, good," he said.

"Good?"

"Yes, good," Draco told her. "I'd hate to think of you with anyone else." He smirked. "I'll be Hermione Granger's first. And last," he added.

She smiled timidly and turned towards him, tucking her hair behind her ear. "Mhm," she hummed.

He reached over and brushed the back of his hand against her cheek. She let out a soft sigh as his hand came to rest on her pillow. He absent-mindedly began playing with her hair, winding a curl around his finger.

"Draco, how many girls have you been with?" she asked.

"Six," he answered honestly, sliding a soft lock between his fingers.

"Oh."

"You thought more," he asked, "or less?"

"More," she replied.

He chuckled. "What do you take me for?"

She laughed. "I don't know. You're just full of surprises." She shifted over towards him and kissed him firmly on the lips. Getting a grip on his shoulder, she gave him a few gentle pushes until she got her message through and as she shoved his shoulder one more time he went from lying on his side to his back and she deepened the kiss. She was half lying on top of him, her legs tangled with his, her hands running over the warm skin of his muscled abdomen.

She moved off of him. He looked at her in wonder. "I'm not the only one full of surprises," he said.

She grinned. "Nope," she agreed.

He chuckled and she felt it reverberate in his chest as she curled into his side. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her snugly against him. She relaxed against his body and closed her eyes contentedly.

"Goodnight," he said.

"Goodnight," she murmured back. "Love you."

"I love you, too." His arms tightened around her briefly as he said it and he kissed her forehead before closing his eyes himself. He listened as her breathing evened out and she fell asleep and as he inhaled the scent of vanilla and honey that just seemed absorbed in her skin he felt himself drifting off as well. He succumbed to the sleep with no reservations, holding her securely in his arms.

* * *

Draco awoke with a slight start as he felt the bed shift. Hermione tried to quietly slip out of bed without waking him but the odds seemed far outside her favour as Draco's eyes snapped opened. She met them apologetically. "I'm sorry," she said, turning as she sat on the edge of the bed and tried to slide her way out of the sheets. "I was hoping I wouldn't wake you. Go back to sleep. It's still early."

"How early?" Draco asked blearily.

She looked sheepish. "Five thirty," she admitted.

"What the hell are you doing up?" Hermione frowned at his choice of words but quickly realized his filter hadn't quite set in yet at the early hour and he didn't mean it harshly at all. He stretched across the bed and curled his fingers under the hem of her shirt, or rather _his_ shirt, and tugged her gently and sleepily backwards. "Get back in bed."

Hermione leaned back acquiescently, lest she be choked by the garment. Eventually she was forced to scoot backwards or fall backwards; she chose the former. It was quite easy on the silk sheets, she sort of glided back towards him and, once she was close enough, he snaked his arm around her middle and hooked her back into place against him, also an easy feat on the slippery sheets. She rolled her eyes as she lay beside him.

"Draco," she began.

"Go to sleep."

"I was going to get a cup of tea," she explained. "I just…couldn't sleep."

"Why?"

"No reason, really. Would you like anything?"

"Don't go," he grumbled.

"Draco, just let me get my tea," Hermione pleaded, wriggling in his grasp.

She swore he growled as he tightened his grip on her.

"Draco."

"Stop wriggling," he groaned.

She stopped. "Let me get my tea, then."

"Fine."

He released her and she grinned. "I'll be back. Go to back to sleep."

"Fat chance of that," Draco groused.

"Give it a try anyway," Hermione said, now succeeding in getting all the way out of bed. She pulled the sheets over him and he wanted to scoff. She was tucking him in! Pulling the bedding around him neatly and snugly as though he was Juliet.

He'd never been tucked in before. Not by his mother, certainly not by his father, and not by the house elves by his memory either. He would have liked to shoot her some sort of glare or indignant look but he couldn't do it. Instead he found himself waving her away with tired look and heard her brief laugh as she left the room.

It was about two hours later when Draco finally got himself out of bed, not bothering to change out of his pyjamas since it was Sunday morning and he hadn't any plans. He went down the corridor and peeked into Juliet's room. Estelle had already collected the little girl so he moved on downstairs, checking first the sitting room and then the dining room. Neither was occupied.

"Kobs!" he called.

The elf appeared in front of him instantly. "Yes, Master Draco?"

"Have you any idea where Hermione and Juliet are?" he asked.

Kobs nodded dutifully. "Miss and the baby is the kitchen with Mitzy, sir. Miss Estelle, too."

"Thank you," Draco said, already heading off in that direction.

He heard them before he saw them. Hermione was laughing along with Juliet merrily and Estelle was saying something or other. As he entered the kitchen he saw Hermione, still in his shirt and sweatpants, with an apron tied around her waist and her hair up in a haphazardly done ponytail. Estelle was sitting at the small table with Juliet atop her lap and Mitzy was following Hermione with smile and several ingredients following behind her.

"Morning," he greeted. He went over and kissed Juliet. "What are you all up to?"

Hermione grinned. "I'm making French toast," she said, "and banana pancakes. I hope you don't mind but Mitzy's been helping me to help myself to your kitchen."

Draco shook his head as Mitzy's looked up at him with wide, slightly worried eyes. "Not a problem," he said.

"There's tea on the table," Hermione directed. He went over to pour himself a cup. "Mitzy, where's the cinnamon?"

"Beside the flour Miss!" Mitzy chirped cheerfully.

Draco took a seat as Hermione went to tend to her toast. "I take it your preparing for brunch?"

"As always," Hermione replied. "You're more than welcome to come with me if you haven't any plans."

"Sure," he agreed.

"Estelle," Hermione said, turning the toast over, "would you like to join us as well?"

"No, that's quite alright," she declined. "If you're all out for the morning though, I think I may pay visits to a few of my friends."

"Sounds wonderful," Hermione said. She moved the toast from the pan to a dish, deeming it finished and then moved on to start work on the pancakes.

"So, Hermione," Estelle said, "how's the bookshop coming along?"

Hermione grinned. "Oh, it's great," she told her. "It's doing really well."

"And you enjoy it?" Estelle asked.

"I do," Hermione confirmed. "I really do."

"Well, that's the best you can hope for, isn't it?" Estelle said with a smile both at Hermione then at Juliet. "You love what you do and you do what you love."

"Of course."

"You'll have to take me round to the shop sometime," Estelle told her. "I'd love to see it."

"Of course," Hermione said again. "Most definitely."

"Good. Now, I think I'll go get ready for the day if that's alright." Estelle finished her tea and placed the empty cup on the saucer. Draco took Juliet from her. "I'll be back well before dinner."

Draco nodded. "Blaise will be here for dinner tonight. If he shows up when we're not here, you'll send him home and tell him to come back later."

Estelle laughed and agreed. "Certainly," she said.

* * *

"Pancakes?" George asked. "Pancakes? Hermione, _French toast_. You bring _French toast_, not pancakes."

"I'm aware George," Hermione acknowledged. "I brought the French toast as well but I really wanted to see how banana pancakes turned out and Ginny said your mum wasn't feeling too well. I figured if she wasn't feeling up to cooking, now was as good a time as any to try out a recipe."

"Oh, well, Mum's doing better but Gin took over the cooking for today." George went into the kitchen where Ginny was, in fact, fiddling with the eggs on the stove.

Draco followed after them.

"Hi, Malfoy," George said flippantly.

"George," Draco returned.

George was hardly paying attention to him anymore as he reached for the baby in Draco's arms instead. Juliet compliantly reached for the redhead and giggled as he tickled her. "Come on, Lettie," he said, "we'll go find James."

Draco allowed him to wander away with his daughter and paused, debating. Hermione had joined Ginny, giving her a hand with the rest of breakfast. Draco went in the same direction George had, into the living room where everyone else was.

He was sure to say a quick hello to Mrs. Weasley, who gave him a warm smile from an armchair beside her husband, looking up from her knitting needles. Clearly, she was getting ready for Christmas.

Harry sat with Angelina and James on the floor, now with George and Juliet as well. Ron was on the couch with his arm around a brunette.

"Daphne?"

The girl turned around with a wide smile. "Draco!" she exclaimed, jumping up to hug him tightly.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, hugging her back.

Her head tilted to indicate Ron. "I'm getting to meet the family," she explained. "However…I had no idea the family would include _you_."

"I'm here with Hermione," he said. "So…you two are really together then?"

Ron grinned. "We are," he affirmed.

Draco nodded. "How strange."

Daphne hit his arm before blushing. "It's not strange at all. Ron's brilliant."

Draco held back a snigger and quick comment. "Good for you two then."

"Thank you. So how have you been?"

"Great," Draco said.

"How's Hermione?"

"As lovely as ever," he replied.

"You're smiling," Daphne noted. "You're dating."

"They're practically married," Ron said with a good-natured snort.

"You knew they were together?" Daphne asked, turning to her boyfriend. "And you didn't tell me?"

"I…I didn't think it was a big deal." Ron shrugged.

Daphne rolled her eyes and pushed back her dark locks. "Men," she said. She poked Draco. "That's great for you guys though."

"Thanks," he said.

He plopped himself down with the others, leaning against the couch. "How've you all been?" he asked conversationally.

"Alright," Harry replied, setting James up on his own. The little boy immediately began to toddle around, heading over to Angelina and George. He leaned over Juliet as she sat in George's lap.

"Hi," James said.

"Hi, Jamesie," George replied. Angelina raised Juliet's hand, encouraging her to wave at James. Juliet smiled happily.

James looked up at George. "Hi," he said again.

Harry laughed and James moved on to wander his way around the couch.

"Breakfast!" Ginny called through the kitchen. Everyone stood and headed to the table.

"Daphne?" Hermione asked in surprise at seeing the girl. She looked to Ron with a smile. "Nice to see you here."

Daphne beamed. "Great to see you as well."

They exchanged simple pleasantries as everyone took their seats and then they fell quiet as they waited for Mrs. Weasley's go ahead to tuck in. A moment later chatter rose up as people asked for dishes to be passed down the table and George told some anecdote about a customer accidently setting off Whizbangs in the past week. Ginny nudged Hermione subtly.

"Yes?" Hermione asked.

"What do you think of Daphne?" Ginny asked quietly, serving herself some pancakes before passing the dish along to Hermione.

Hermione helped herself to pancakes carefully and then reached for the syrup. "I think she could be good for Ron. Why?"

"I don't know about her."

"Ginny," Hermione looked at her friend, speaking slowly, "does this have anything to do with her writing for the _Prophet_?"

"Maybe."

"Ginny. She's a writer. For the _Prophet_. Get over it."

Ginny frowned. "I don't know." She glanced around the table. "How odd is this though? Two Slytherins, here at the Burrow, having breakfast. Who would have ever thought it?"

Hermione laughed. "Not in my wildest dreams," she said. She thought about it. Ginny was right. It _was_ strange. All those years back at school, all the rivalry, the conflicts, and the prejudice. It was crazy to think that that had gone on for so long and now here they were, just as Ginny said, eating breakfast. And even seeing Daphne and Ron together was odd. She knew they'd gone on a date or two after the one she'd set up for them but she hadn't been aware just how serious they were. It astounded her how distant she, Harry and Ron had become in comparison to how they'd been back at school and during the war. They were growing up.

"Possibly three Slytherins," Ginny went on, musing aloud. "I'd assume that little Juliet, darling as she looks, she'll be a Slytherin, too."

Hermione raised an eyebrow at the redhead and she shrugged in response. "Then again, she's been around you quite some time and I don't suppose that's ever going to change. Maybe she'll be a Gryffindor. A Ravenclaw even."

"A Hufflepuff, too, while she's at it?" Hermione asked.

Ginny smiled. "Why not?"

"And what about James?"

"Oh, Gryffindor. Definitely Gryffindor."

"Of course," Hermione agreed with a grin.

"Of course," Ginny said.

They went on eating and chatting for another hour or so before Hermione glanced at the time. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "Merlin, I've got to get to work!"

"What? You're late?" George laughed.

"Yes," Hermione said, standing up and thanking Mrs. Weasley for having her and Ginny for making breakfast. She cleared her spot as George continued.

"Hermione, that's sort of the point of being your own boss. Never late. Never fired."

"I told Cory to be there for twelve," Hermione said. "I won't keep her waiting."

"Cory?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

"The help she hired," Draco explained.

"Interesting bird," George said, having met her once before. "Bit of a scatterbrain, far as I can tell."

"I'd almost say you're better off running the shop entirely on your own," Draco said.

Hermione went around the table to say her goodbyes. "Cory is doing really well," she defended. "She's great help."

Draco didn't bother to fight her on this. She was in a hurry as it was.

Hermione got around to him and kissed him lightly on the lips. "I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Tomorrow? You aren't coming to dinner?"

"No, I thought you were having Blaise over."

"So?" Draco asked. "You're not coming to dinner?"

"You two have a boys' night," she said. "In fact, why don't I invite Estelle and Juliet over? They can come have dinner at my flat."

Draco looked a little confused before he shrugged. "Alright. Sure."

"Okay," Hermione said. "I'll see you tomorrow then."

Draco smiled at her. "See you tomorrow."

* * *

**A/N: Alright! I had a whole author's note written out for you but it was deleted so here's the gist: I didn't reply to the last chapter's review. I really appreciated them all but I was busy writing this chapter and dealing with life so sorry, I'm most definitely replying to the reviews for this chapter. Thanks for reading! I promise this story is going somewhere and has a foreseeable end, it's getting there. Hope you aren't getting bored or feeling as though these chapters are endless.**

**Please review.**

**Anyways,**

**Scarlett**


	32. Chapter 32

Juliet had begun crawling. Backwards, but crawling nonetheless. Hermione assured Draco that the little girl's sense of direction was not going to be impaired by this oddity in any way. Some babies just found more unorthodox ways to get around; apparently Juliet was one of them.

Hermione had now fully relaxed into the lifestyle of running her own business and had gotten the shop to exactly her liking—right down to the copy of _Hogwarts: A History_ behind the counter (to recommend to any aspiring Hogwarts students) and the complete, magically updating, list of every single book in the shop.

Draco found it rather amusing to, and made a habit of, strolling into the shop unannounced and taking up residence in her office for a few hours when he had nothing better to do. He didn't tire of seeing Hermione jump when she hurried into the room to grab something only to see someone sitting behind her desk. It didn't take long for Hermione to tire of it however, and soon she was no longer fazed by his casual presence. Instead of jumping, she'd rush in, snatch up whatever it was she needed, drop a kiss on his lips and rush on back out.

Draco had found it necessary then to make his fun more interesting. He moved a book from its rightful place and waited to see when Hermione would notice. He brought Blaise with him and played wing-man to see how many attractive witches one could find and make a date with in a bookshop. Draco always found Hermione. The game didn't hold Blaise's interest very long.

Hermione finally had lost it when she nearly had a heart attack upon seeing a complete stranger cradling Juliet among the spellbooks—Draco nowhere in sight. Draco got a kick out of it, Hermione thought she'd gone mad before she realized that the baby was, in fact, Juliet at which point she promptly marched over to the man and Draco came out of hiding and thanked the bloke, who seemed bewildered, for holding his daughter, all the while laughing at Hermione.

She nearly slapped him for that bit; she would have if she hadn't been holding Juliet, having scooped the girl up from him when she realized his ruse, in a shop surrounded by customers. In Draco's opinion what she _had_ done was far worse. Her voice was low and deceptively calm as she held Juliet to her side and stared him down. "You are banned," she told him, walking away with Juliet and asking Cory to show him out and explain that he was no longer allowed in the shop during its operational hours.

When he went by to find Hermione for a lunch out the following week, he could only chuckle and shake his head at the sign that appeared and disappeared from the door as he stepped in and out of the vicinity. "Draco," it read, "you're banned at the moment. Go home and make use of your time."

He took her out for lunch. Then took her advice and went home to shuffle around some paperwork before bundling up Juliet and taking her and Estelle out for the afternoon. They went shopping, a suggestion from Estelle, as she said it was about time he started preparing for the holidays.

Draco didn't see why.

"There's only two weeks until Christmas!" Estelle exclaimed.

Draco shook his head as they wandered into another shop and Estelle picked up a teapot and began to examine it with interest. "I've never much been one for the holidays," he commented.

Estelle smiled at the flowery teapot before placing it back down. She looked at him. "Does Hermione enjoy the holidays?" she asked.

Draco thought about it. "Don't know," he said with a shrug, though even as he said it he was thinking back to their Hogwarts days and remembering just how much she used to light up around Christmas. His memory and observational skills weren't too shabby.

"Well," Estelle began, scanning the displays curiously, "I certainly think she's the type." She waited but Draco said nothing. "I noticed the manor is rather lacking in decorations," she remarked.

"I don't really participate in holidays," Draco drawled flatly, glancing around the little shop, not too impressed.

"You do now though, don't you?" Estelle asked him.

"Excuse me?" Draco asked.

"Oh, don't kid yourself Draco. If it matters to Hermione, it will matter to you." In no way did the woman say it rudely, but factually as she passed by shelves of charming little decorative tablecloths and pretty vases.

Draco wasn't really sure he could argue that. "What about you then? You're all ready for the holidays?"

"I finished my shopping two weeks ago," Estelle informed him.

"Did you, now?"

"I did. And I take it you haven't started at all?"

They had looped around the entire store. Estelle looked at Draco's expression and shook her head. "You better get started. Who all do you have to shop for?"

Draco considered this. "Don't know," he said.

Estelle shook her head and took Juliet from Draco, smiling at the baby brightly. Shaking her head at the man before her one last time she told him that she and Juliet were off to do a bit of shopping on their own, as was he. "Hop to it," she instructed.

Draco rolled his eyes as the woman left the shop with his daughter. He picked up the teapot Estelle had held a moment ago and paid for it before leaving the shop. He figured it was a decent place to start.

* * *

"What's got you so tired?" Hermione asked, stroking Juliet's hair and eyeing Draco curiously. He looked rather worn out, leaning back into her couch and throw pillows, his hair a little tousled and his eyes shut.

"Shopping," he muttered.

"You mean walking around with Estelle and Julie today?" she asked. "My, can't even keep up with a nanny and infant?"

"Shut it," Draco ordered, sitting up to look at her. "I actually did quite a bit of shopping today. Christmas and all."

Hermione smiled, pleasantly surprised. "Oh, you got your Christmas shopping done? That's great." The tone in her voice confirmed Draco's suspicions of her feelings towards the holidays. "I was meaning to ask you if you planned to decorate the manor," she continued. "I've got more decorations than I know what to do with and well," she glanced around her small flat, "haven't much space for all of them to go so—"

"We don't decorate for the hols," Draco cut in.

Hermione's eyebrows furrowed. "'We' being who?" she asked.

"Malfoys," he told her, standing up. "I need a coffee," he announced.

"Help yourself," Hermione said absentmindedly. "So, Malfoys don't decorate. Why?"

Draco shrugged as he moved about her kitchen, opening her cupboards and poking at appliances on her counter. "You don't keep a large stock of food," he commented, pulling open the refrigerator to get a look in there as well.

Hermione fixed Juliet on her hip and followed Draco into the kitchen to help him. "I don't eat many meals here," she explained simply. She thought about it. The only things she was certain were in her fridge at the moment were a container of yogurt and some berries for quick breakfasts. Possibly a carton of eggs as well, but she couldn't recall if she had already finished that.

"I suppose you don't," Draco agreed, his mind going over the last three days. She'd been at the manor for dinner each night and he figured she was usually out and about when she ate lunch.

Hermione passed Juliet to Draco. She made quick work of fixing his coffee and setting on the counter before him, promptly taking the baby girl back from him.

"Back to the topic at hand," she began, "I'd like to decorate the manor a bit. Nothing excessive, just a few touches."

He took a sip of the strong, hot beverage. Lowering the mug, he met her eyes. "No."

"And why not?"

"Why go through the hassle?" he asked. "Christmas comes and goes in one day."

She sighed. "Because I want to make it Christmassy. I want it to be warm and ready for that one day."

"I don't see the point."

"Julie, you want to decorate, don't you?" she asked. The happy tone she used drew an easy smile and laugh from the little girl and a smirk pulled the corners of Hermione's mouth upward. "See?"

Draco quirked an eyebrow. "You're going to bring her into this? Really?"

"It is her first Christmas you know," Hermione pointed out. "Perhaps it should actually look like one."

He scowled.

"You won't have to lift a finger," she said. "I don't see why you're so against this."

"It's unnatural."

"It's what?"

"Un—"

"I'm going to need you to elaborate."

Draco drank the rest of his coffee remarkably fast. "Twinkling lights and holly just don't belong there," he said. "It would seem out of place. Hardly in the…Christmas spirit or whatever. You can't make it something it isn't."

Hermione frowned. "Fine. I suppose we'll be spending Christmas at the Burrow anyway."

"Excuse me?"

"Christmas with the Weasleys," Hermione explained.

"You don't think perhaps I should be consulted on the matter?" Draco asked.

She repressed a laugh. "You're right," she agreed. "I mustn't speak for anyone but myself. _I _will be spending Christmas at the Burrow. _You_ are invited though," she amended.

Draco nodded, looking slightly put out.

"You get along with Harry and Ron," Hermione said. It was true. Harry and Draco had become accustomed to each other quite a while ago but recently, especially with Daphne around a little more, even Ron had frequent and friendly conversations with Draco. "What's the look for?"

"Can't Christmas be…quiet?" he asked.

Hermione's eyes widened. "You have to ask?"

He sighed.

Hermione's mouth twisted thoughtfully. "Okay," she said finally, nodding first at Juliet and then at the man before her. "I'll tell you what. You allow me the simple pleasure of decorating the manor," he opened his mouth to refute this and she quickly went on, holding up a hand to stop any comments, "just a little. And then, we can spend the quietest Christmas Eve you desire, just the three of us." She waited for a reaction.

"Estelle as well."

She nodded. "Estelle as well."

"And," she went on, "Christmas with the Weasleys."

He sighed, but echoed it back to her albeit in a very different tone. "And Christmas with the Weasleys."

* * *

Some things just had the most terrible timing. For example, rain on the day of your picnic or having the hiccups in the middle of an exam. It was an inconvenience at best.

Hermione was lying in bed, just seconds from drifting off to sleep, when the urge to sneeze snuck up on her. "_Achoo!_" The force of it brought her upright in bed.

"Bless me," she muttered to herself. Three more sneezes followed. "Oh my."

She sighed and lay down. _This_ was terrible timing. Sneezing that many times in a row meant only one thing for any Granger. She was sick. And on December 23rd no less.

She shook her head and told herself to think positively. It was just a bout of allergies. She'd take something in the morning and be perfectly fine. She just needed to go to sleep and get a good night's rest.

She woke up with a sneeze and groan. "Merlin."

* * *

"Hermione?"

Hermione was wrapped in two blankets and multiple pairs of socks. She felt completely drained of every bit of energy she possessed. "Yes?" she replied, her voice scratchy from coughing. She was feeling dreadful. This, from a girl who had faced multiple near-death experiences and after each one had jumped right back up to keep on fighting. She was now swaddled up on her couch and begging the heavens to take pity on her just get the bloody virus, whatever it was, out of her system.

She hated being sick.

"Hermione? Where are you?"

She knew it was Harry, calling her through the floo and he probably couldn't see her past the blankets from where she was lying on the couch. She felt badly for being unable to muster any sort of enthusiasm to hear from him.

"I'm on the couch," Hermione said.

"Well, could you come over here?" Harry asked with a laugh.

"No," she said.

"Hermione, are you alright?" His voice took on a worried tone.

"I'm fine," she said. "I'm just sick and tired."

"Of what?" Harry asked. "Do you want to let me through and we can talk about it? Did Draco do something?"

"No. Harry, I'm _literally_ sick and _literally_ tired. I've got a blazing fever," she explained. She went into a short coughing fit and then struggled to reach the tissue box to blow her nose.

"That does not sound good," Harry commented.

"No kidding," Hermione grumbled.

"Is anyone with you?"

"No."

"Well, let me through. I'll fix you some soup or something," Harry insisted.

Hermione shook her head.

"Hermione?"

She closed her eyes. "I'm okay. Really. And I won't have anyone else getting sick, alright?"

She heard him sigh. "If I make the soup and send it through, will you take it?"

"Harry, I'm not leaving this couch," she told him.

"Does Draco know you're sick?"

"I…I meant to send a note." She realized she hadn't. "Harry, could you—"

"I'll handle it."

"Thank you."

Hermione took a deep breath and pulled her hair away from her face. In an instant she was no longer feeling inexplicably cold but rather overly warm. She was achy all over, but despite that she immediately began throwing off the blankets and kicking off her socks. Tying her hair up in a ponytail and undoing the top buttons of her flannel pyjamas, she turned this way and that on the couch to get comfortable once again.

"Hermione?"

"Harry, you're still here?" she asked.

"I was calling to find out your Christmas plans."

"I'm sick," Hermione said regrettably, "I'm staying home."

"Aw, Hermione. Are you sure?"

She frowned. "I'm contagious. I've got a fever. I will _not_ get anyone else sick," she said firmly. "I'm sure I'm staying home. Now. I love you. Happy Christmas. I'll get presents to you somehow. Go write Draco for me and tell everyone else I'm sorry I can't make it."

"Will do, Hermione. I'll floo Draco in a moment. Love you and happy Christmas as well then."

She sneezed embarrassingly loudly. "Bye Harry."

He chuckled. "Bless you. Bye Hermione."

She had blown her nose, closed her eyes and nearly fallen asleep again when she heard the fireplace erupt once more. "Hermione, what's wrong?"

"Draco?" she asked.

"Who else?" he returned.

"Well, I was just talking to Harry."

"No, _I _was just talking Harry," Draco countered. "Why didn't you tell me you were sick?"

Hermione groaned and threw a blanket over her legs, the chill beginning to hit her once again. "I only found out this morning."

"I'm coming through."

She pulled herself to sit up. "No, you are not," she ordered. "Don't you dare. I'll get you sick."

Admittedly, Draco did not like being around sick people. He didn't like the germs, for one thing, and he hardly knew what to do with them. As a child, when he got sick, the elves tended to his every ailment and want and his mother would check on him throughout the day to be sure he was taken care of. He didn't get sick often though; his immune system was in good shape.

He'd always thought it disgusting though. The sneezing, the snot, the coughing, the phlegm, all of the tissues, dry lips and abnormal body temperatures. It wasn't anything any person in their right mind would want to be around. However, not even seeing, just _hearing_ the illness in Hermione's voice didn't make him want to head off in the other direction as one might have assumed, Draco included. In fact, he mostly just wanted was to see her and fix her back to health. This tired and ill Hermione was not one he was used to, or particularly partial to either.

"Relax, Hermione. I'll be fine. Now, let me through," he told her.

"No. What if I get you sick and then you go right home and get Juliet sick as well?" she asked. "I won't have it. You are not coming over here."

Perhaps she was more herself than he thought she was at the moment. No fever would stop her from giving orders and having her way. That bossy little know-it-all.

He sighed. "How did you manage to get sick anyway?"

"The shop's been busy with people lately," Hermione said, "and it's the season for all colds and flus. I could have caught it from just about anybody."

"Potter says you have a fever?"

"That I do," she agreed.

Draco nodded. "Anything I can do?"

"Thank you, but I'm quite alright." She sniffled and coughed but then her throat began to feel tighter and she was soon on the verge of tears.

"Hermione?" Draco asked. "Why are you crying?"

She shook her head, sniffling more and more. The crying was not going to help her sinuses.

Great. He didn't know what to do with crying people either. Except for Juliet, that is.

"I'm in quarantine for Christmas," Hermione said sadly, tears sliding down her cheeks. "After I had you decorate the manor with me and everything." Her overtiredness was not helping matters with her emotions.

"Told you it was a needless hassle."

She laughed. He was the only person who would toss an 'I told you so' her way while she was crying. It was amusing. "You enjoyed it," she said. "You can't deny that."

Draco chuckled. "I'll admit that the mistletoe may have been worth it, but the tree was a bit too far."

Hermione smiled and wiped her cheeks of her tears. "You're lucky I let you use magic. Had I thought I could push my luck any further, it would have been muggle all the way."

"Suppose I really will get my quiet Christmas Eve," Draco commented.

"I'm sorry Draco," she said. "I really wish I could be there. I was so looking forward to Juliet's first Christmas."

"She won't remember it anyway."

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "That doesn't mean it shouldn't be special," she insisted. "Take plenty of pictures."

"I'll see about getting Yip a camera."

"You should invite Blaise," Hermione suggested. "If he doesn't have plans, that is." She paused for a sneeze. Her sides were beginning to ache, the muscles tiring from all of the sneezing fits.

"Bless you."

"Thank you." Feeling cold yet again, she wrapped a blanket around her shoulders. "So, you'll invite Blaise?"

"I might."

"You should."

"I'd much rather have you here. Blaise's company isn't nearly as attractive," Draco told her.

Hermione laughed, followed by coughing. "Don't make me feel worse about this. Besides, I don't think you'd want my company right now."

Draco chuckled. "That may be true. You seem a little unstable at the moment."

"I am ill!" she defended. "My whole body aches and feel like I have to _remember_ to breathe and I keep coughing. I'm freezing one minute and positively boiling the next. It's awful."

"No need to whinge."

"I'm sick with a fever," she said. "I reserve the right to whinge."

"Yes," Draco confirmed, "very unstable."

"Shut it."

He sobered up. "You'll be alright?" he asked. "Can I send Mitzy to care for you?"

"Absolutely not," Hermione said. "I don't need caring for and I won't have _anyone_ over here until I'm perfectly healthy and this flat is sanitized."

"Of course," Draco drawled. "And when will that be?"

Hermione curled into herself on the couch and sighed. "Soon, I hope. I had promised to visit my mum and dad tomorrow as well. I ought to get around to writing them."

"Just like you meant to write me?" he asked.

"Harry mentioned that, did he?" Hermione smiled. "I did mean to send you a note of some sort but I got caught up in sneezing and coughing and making tea that I didn't have the patience to drink." It was true. She'd made herself tea twice now, and both times she'd only taken a couple of sips when it was too hot and then lost the energy to sit up and wait for it to cool a bit to drink the rest. She'd left the cup on the coffee table. Too lazy to get up and find her wand to cast a warming charm, it had gone cold quite some time ago.

"Merlin, Hermione," Draco said with a shake of his head. "You're sure there isn't anything I can do for you?"

She hummed. "What I would like is for you to do as Estelle says this evening and help Juliet open her presents. Take pictures. Wish both of them a happy Christmas from me and Blaise as well if he ends up being there. _Don't_ open your present from me until I'm there, okay? It has a bit of an explanation."

Draco agreed, though she'd now piqued his curiosity.

"Good." Hermione sneezed once more. Draco blessed her. She thanked him. "Draco, I think I need to go back to sleep."

"I concur," he replied.

"Okay. See you when I'm better. Enjoy Christmas."

He laughed at the drowsy slur in her voice. "You too, Hermione."

"Mmm. I love you." She had planned on shuffling her way to her bedroom, but suddenly the couch seemed amazingly comfortable. Her eyes fluttered closed and she snuggled back into the furniture, her fingers curling tightly in the blanket and pulling it securely around her.

"I love you, too."

She was fast asleep.

* * *

**A/N: Dear Readers, if there are still any of you left, I am so sorry for being so awful at updating. Not to mention how disappointing this chapter must be. I myself am not too pleased with it. However, I am hoping to get feedback from some of you as to what you think might and/or should happen. **

**I'd like to dedicate this update to Lelia (and everyone else you urged me to update). If, Lelia, you are in fact still around I am immensely apologetic for the wait. Thanks for your compliments.**

**If any of you would like my excuse for not updating it's that I got a little stuck for inspiration and then took up writing a Lily/James Christmas story if any of you read it. "Good Tidings". That was fun. **

**Please review.**

**Anyways,**

**Scarlett**


	33. Chapter 33

Hermione braced her hands on the sink and leaned forward to inspect her appearance. Her poor nose was red and rubbed raw, and her face was flushed from the fever. Her hair was beyond hope and she hadn't had anything but orange juice, water and tea within the last thirty hours or so.

She was wrapped in a heavy grey cardigan and fleece pyjama pants and had taken to wearing mittens and a scarf in the confines of her flat as well. She looked as miserable as she felt—an incredible feat, considering that she was feeling substantially better than she had the day before. A small gift to her from Father Christmas, she believed.

After wrestling her hair into a plait down her back, she washed her hands for the umpteenth time that day and pressed a cold washcloth to her face in an attempt to lower her temperature. It was quite the paradox how she could feel as though she was simultaneously freezing to death from her shoulders down and burning up from her neck upwards.

She padded out of the bathroom and into the kitchen to have yet another glass of orange juice that morning. She was getting a little sick of the beverage. At least the tea was warming.

She downed the last bit of the normally sweet, but in her state tasteless, liquid and then went into the living room. Taking a deep breath, she grabbed a handful of floo powder and knelt in front of the fireplace. Tossing the powder in, she demanded the Burrow.

She grimaced and squeezed her eyes shut tightly as she leaned into the green flames. "Happy Christmas!" she called. It was all very loud and bustling on the other side of the call. Clearly many people were present and there was much fun to be had. Fun she wouldn't be part of this year.

She called out twice more, her voice marginally better than strained and whispery, before someone finally took notice of her.

"Hey, Hermione," Bill said, bending at the waist to look at her. "Said you're sick. How're you feeling?"

She smiled widely at him. "I'm alright."

"Rubbish timing, catching the flu on Christmas," Bill added sympathetically. "Anyone I can get for you? Or were you calling especially for me?"

"Anyone but your mother," Hermione whispered.

Bill laughed at that. "She'd be hurt, Hermione."

"Oh, you know I love her to death," Hermione defended. "I'd rather not be coddled at the moment is all, and she needn't worry about me. You have plenty of siblings you could get for me instead."

"What about me?" Harry was taking up the space next to Bill and grinning at her.

"Feel better, Hermione," Bill said, waving once and then leaving her view.

Hermione laughed and replied in response to Harry's indignant yet teasing outburst. "Brother-in-law," she quipped.

Harry nodded. "You're right. Always are. But you'll never guess—"

"Is that Hermione?"

She sniffled and then smiled as Ron joined Harry. She noted that they were both wearing Weasley Christmas jumpers, labelled R and H respectively. Clearly Mrs. Weasley had still been busy as ever with her knitting needles.

"Happy Christmas, Hermione!" Ron greeted. "Sorry, you're sick."

"Not as sorry as I am," she returned.

"I don't know," Ron went on. "It was one thing when Malfoy waltzed in with you, but on his own it's just borderline mental."

"Malfoy?" Hermione asked.

A voice further away sounded. "I heard my name. Is that Hermione?"

Next thing Hermione knew, Draco was right alongside Harry and Ron. "How's the flu treating you?" he asked.

She looked at him, just short of astounded. "What are you doing there?" she asked.

Draco shrugged. "Christmas with the Weasleys. Just as you said."

"Well," Hermione smiled, pleasantly surprised, "this is interesting."

Draco chuckled. "Christmas Eve turned out to be a little too quiet," he explained, "Daphne's here, too. Juliet's with George."

Hermione looked past the three men before her fondly. George certainly had taken a liking to the blonde little girl, as he did most children, and Juliet was rather partial to him as well. It was sweet.

"That's nice," Hermione said, a little wistful as she wished she was there. "Did Blaise join you?"

Draco shook his head. "Briefly. He was off to a party."

"I see. That's too bad."

"Not so much," Draco dismissed. "Estelle was great though. Yip took plenty of photos for you."

Hermione nodded, still appearing very forlorn. "Thank you." She sneezed and they blessed her in unison. "Will you get the others here for a moment? I'd like to wish everyone a happy Christmas before I go back to sleep."

Harry chuckled. "Alright, you poor, ill thing. I'll go get them." Hermione watched as her messy haired friend disappeared and heard him move farther away as he called for Ginny, George, Angelina, Charlie and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.

Ron was blathering on about the gifts he'd received and Hermione was nodding seemingly intently, watching Draco all the while. He was smirking at her, well aware that she wasn't listening to a word out of the redhead's mouth.

Soon everyone was crowded around the fireplace, giving Hermione sad and sympathetic looks. She smiled at all of the friendly faces and many matching jumpers. "Happy Christmas!" she said.

They chorused the greeting back to her and then asked how she was feeling and if they could get anything for her.

Hermione smiled happily at getting to see them and politely declined their offers. Molly went on to describe to her all the steps she must take to get better and Hermione listened attentively until she was finished. After telling her that they hoped to see her as soon as she was better, they gave her bright smiles and blew her farewell kisses. Molly promised to send her some soup and then they dispersed.

"Get well soon," Draco ordered, still in front of the fireplace.

Hermione sneezed. "I _am_ trying my best," she vowed, rolling her eyes.

He chuckled at her. "Go back to bed. I'll see you when you're done sneezing."

"You didn't bless me."

"I'm tired of blessing you."

"I sneezed though," she said. "When people sneeze, etiquette dictates that you bless them."

Draco smirked. "Well, I'm tired of blessing. I suppose you'll just have to stop sneezing."

* * *

She did stop sneezing. Eventually. Hermione was well and healthy again within the week. Wide awake, virus free and incredibly hungry, she was feeling rejuvenated.

She sated her neglected stomach with a proper breakfast and then bundled up and went out to the patisserie for what she decided would be her breakfast dessert. She wasn't even going to feel guilty about it either, she told herself, because she skipped out on enough sweets over the last few days to balance things out. Especially since everybody else got to indulge over the holidays. She had a right to fulfill.

She was disappointed to see that it wasn't Charlie behind the counter at the bakery but a woman who looked to be about in her late twenties with blonde hair beneath a baker's hat and pink lipstick. "Good morning," she greeted.

The woman smiled at her. "Almost afternoon actually," she replied pleasantly. "What can I get for you?"

"Still deciding," Hermione said. "Hey, is Charlie here?"

"Charlie?"

For a second, she thought maybe he didn't work there anymore. "Seventeen. Works here last I checked," she elaborated.

"Oh, little Chuck. He's not in for a shift until four. Sorry." She looked around for a pen. "Is there a message I can..."

"Oh, no," Hermione quickly shook her head, "that's not necessary."

After ordering a small chocolate cake and watching the woman box it up for her, she asked that the girl say a hello to Charlie for her and then left the shop with a smile.

She arrived at the manor in the next two minutes.

Looking around, she noticed that the decorations that she and Draco had ever so painstakingly put up were still there untouched. The red ribbon, trimmed gold, remained wound up the railing of the stairs and mistletoe stuck to the arc of several of the doorways. He hadn't allowed her to put up a tree, and she hadn't fought him on it either—she knew her limits—but a quick peek into the sitting room confirmed that the lights she'd strung in the corner and the red velvet she'd spread to put the presents on hadn't been moved either.

It brought a small smile to her face, even though there was a fair chance that the only reason the decorations maintained their place and appearance was because Draco was still resentful of having to put them up. He wasn't about to willingly take the time to pack them away or dispose of them. But then again, he was a wizard; a simple flick of the wrist could get the job done easily. Yet he hadn't bothered.

"Draco?" she called.

"Yes?"

She jumped and whirled around as the voice sounded behind her. He grinned and took her face in his hands before she could scold him, kissing her soundly on the lips.

Hermione hummed and he smirked against her mouth. It seemed no matter how many times he kissed her, the moment he slid his mouth over hers, she still reacted that same way. It was a definite turn on for him, seeing the effect his actions could have on her. He could only imagine what other reactions he could coax from her.

He pulled away and looked at her. "Feeling better?" he asked.

"Much," she replied.

His lips descended upon hers once more as his hands found the curve of her waist and her mass of curls. He pulled her closer.

"Draco," she murmured as she attempted to pull away. He tugged her closer still before feeling her press something into his abdomen. He looked between them and saw that she was holding a white cake box.

He shook his head at her. "Chocolate?" he asked.

She nodded.

"Have you eaten a real meal yet?"

Hermione smiled at his concern for her. "Eggs and toast this morning," she assured. "So how about it?" She raised the box hopefully.

Kobs got a plate and forks for them and they settled into the sitting room. "So, where is my dear Juliet?" Hermione asked, her lips closing around her first bite.

Draco swallowed his mouthful of cake. "Estelle took her to her cousin's house for tea. If I'd known you were going to be here I would've asked that they stayed."

Hermione shook her head. "I'll just have to wait until they get back then," she said with a shrug. "Now, what is it you've been doing then?"

Draco carved out another forkful of cake. "Blaise and I had a meeting."

"Oh? And how did that go?" she asked.

Draco seemed even less interested than she was. "Alright. What about you? Are you looking forward to going back to work?"

She beamed. "I am actually."

Draco nodded. "Do you think your fresh out of Hogwarts help kept the place in one piece?" he asked.

Hermione laughed despite herself. "Cory is not incompetent. You just don't like her because she does as I say and keeps you out."

"She's a scatterbrain," Draco said. "It's amazing that she can even _remember_ to keep me out."

Hermione scowled. "She works fine." In all honesty, Hermione hadn't had many options when hiring help for the shop. Cory had been the best of the bunch. And that was quite the statement. The others, all three of them, had seemed disinterested in just about every aspect of the job they were applying for, except for the pay. At least Cory tried to pay attention and remember all the details.

Admittedly, Hermione _had_ been worried about asking Cory to run the shop on her own when she couldn't make it due to her illness. She had already closed the shop for the holidays, but she didn't want to keep it closed for too long. She had owled Cory a specific list of instructions for the one day she'd be fending for herself, right down to which way she was to turn the key in the register and what charms to use.

She was just the slightest bit wary of what she'd have to clean up when she returned.

"Last bite," Draco told her.

Hermione looked at the cake left on the plate. It was two bites in her mind, but she knew Draco would beg to differ on that. She split it in half anyway and ate one of the two pieces, leaving the other for him with a bright smile.

"Any plans at the moment?" Hermione asked.

Draco shook his head. "Great," she sat a little taller, "then you can open your present now." She saw that it sat where she had placed it over a week ago. Unopened at her request.

With a quick, muttered _accio_ she had the gift whizzing her way. Catching it gently, she placed it in his lap. "Open it," she instructed, not giving him the chance to give her her present.

He raised an eyebrow at her but began to peel away the wrappings as she rambled.

"So… I had absolutely no idea what to get you," she said, "because, what do you get Draco Malfoy? Anything you _want_ you would have already _gotten_. And you have everything you need. But I've always been a big believer in practical gifts, you know? I mean, what's the point if you can't actually use it." He was nodding along, half listening with a portion of his divided attention as he tried to get around whatever extremely strong sticking charm she had used on the festively red and green paper. "Well," she continued on, "unless it's something you really, really want and like. Those gifts that you just love instantly."

Draco gave up on trying to reverse the effects of the charm and instead vanished the wrappings. He stared at the object in his lap, a silver rectangle with square buttons off the side and a plastic window in the centre that held a black rectangle with two white wheels within it. He looked at her for an explanation.

She gave him a hesitant smile. "It's a tape recorder."

"A tape recorder," he repeated.

Hermione nodded. "See," she began pointing out the different parts of the device, "that's the tape and that's what the sound is saved on. You press this button to record. And this button to stop. And this button to play it back so you can hear it. This one to go back. This one to go forward. And—"

Draco laughed. "Okay," he interrupted. "Brilliant. What do I do with it?"

She laughed and he couldn't help his smile at the sound. "Well, really it's almost another present to Juliet. Indirectly it's for you though." He waited. "I thought we could record your piano playing. That way we don't spend hours trying to calm her down when she cries, or the two person job of getting her to the ballroom. It was either this or a piano for the nursery. This won out." She grinned. "It's wonderfully muggle."

"It is," he agreed. "You'll show me how to use it later."

"Mhm. We'll start with that one song you play…when you're intoxicated. But softer." She thought back to the many times they had used the piano trick to soothe Juliet. Three times out of five it was that song. She could hum it off the top of her head but as far as she knew it had no name.

"Thank you," Draco said sincerely. He brushed his lips over hers. "Oh, and Juliet's been sleeping with that blanket you gave her since Estelle handed it to her. She doesn't let it out of her sight. And we've made it through three of the…many, many books you bought her."

Hermione hit his arm playfully. "It was not that many."

"Right," Draco agreed, placating her. He called her present to him and handed it over. "Happy Christmas," he told her.

Hermione lit up at that and began to unwrap the present. It was a book she had mentioned in passing quite some time ago, a limited edition magical history book that he couldn't fathom to be terribly interesting but she seemed taken by.

She ran a hand over the cover with a smile and then wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug. "Thank you," she said. Letting go of him, she turned and settled against his side, stretching her legs out on the couch and resting her head against his shoulder. She had missed him. It was by the third day of being sick that she had realized how much time they spent together and how much she felt she needed that. She had gone a little stir crazy being on her own, and the first people she knew she'd go see were Draco and Juliet.

Draco's arm came around her and she wiggled a moment to get comfortable. He chuckled at her and she felt the reverberation through his chest before he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. They sat there for a while, Hermione asking him all about his Christmas activities and telling him about the hallucinations she'd had with her fever.

He laughed at her and kissed her when she frowned at him for it.

Cracking open the book he had given her she began to read through it, slowly making her way from cover to cover. For the first little while, she'd stop at sections she found particularly interesting and share them with him but she soon caught on to the fact that he had closed his eyes. He wasn't sleeping, simply enjoying her presence as he held her against his side and listening as she quoted somebody he was sure Professor Binns had once done a lesson on. He was definitely more inclined to listen to the story now that it was coming from Hermione and not the droning voice of his ancient professor.

She fell quiet and began to turn pages a little faster. He was content to sit in the comfortable silence and watch her expressions change along with the information she read; watch her soak it all up, her eyebrows drawing together in concentration and question and her mouth quirking into a smile as she read about each victory. Eventually he got tired of reading on her behalf and closed his eyes again. It seemed quite some time later when he felt her shift to close the very thick book.

"I'm going to visit my parents tomorrow," she said. "I was supposed to see them on Christmas… so I won't be here for dinner."

Draco nodded. "Do you want to invite them over here?" he offered.

"No, that's okay," she declined.

"I could send them a portkey," he said. "Your mother wanted to see the gardens and I'm sure Estelle would like to meet them. They'd get along, I'd imagine."

Hermione's eyebrows furrowed. "When did my mother mention gardens?" she asked.

"They asked where I lived," he told her.

Hermione couldn't remember the manor being described in any of the conversations from the evening he had met her parents. She'd been paying close attention to everything that was said that night. Then again, she may have been taking care of Juliet at the time.

"I'll send them a portkey," Draco said.

"Even though I just said no to having them over here?" she asked.

He nodded. "It's my home, I believe I'm entitled to invite whomever I want."

"Am I invited?"

He nodded again. "Sure."

"Alright then." She expelled a quiet sigh and relaxed against him, smiling as she felt his hand run from her shoulder to her wrist and then from her hip to her waist.

She turned in his embrace and kissed him lightly. Drawing back, she met his stunningly grey eyes for a second before her gaze flicked back down to his lips and again she was compelled kiss him, have her lips meld with his and feel his tongue talentedly caressing her own. Her arms slid around his neck as she pulled herself up to face him, her lips meeting his.

Draco was swift to get her situated in his lap and deepen the kiss, his hands playing with the long tendrils of her hair and holding her right where she was by her hip. Out of breath, Hermione's hands found Draco's strong shoulders and she was forced to pull away in favour of oxygen. Draco however, did not seem to be in such a predicament as he immediately began trailing warm kisses along her jawline and then down the length of her neck.

The resulting purr she emitted had him placing open-mouthed kisses at her clavicle before sliding a hand into her hair as her head tilted back. He got to the spot just below her ear and her hands began to trace over the planes of his chest. The hand on her hip slipped under her jumper and his thumb brushed over the soft skin of her tummy.

The next few moments passed as roaming hands and soft lips. Tired of having to turn to face him, Hermione briefly detached herself from him to place a leg on either side of him in an effective straddle. As her hands started on the top few buttons of his shirt he let out a low growl.

"Hermione, we need to stop or—"

"We should go upstairs," she said breathlessly, surprising even herself with the brazen statement. She took his hand, not giving herself the chance to second guess as she crawled off of his lap and pulled him up after her.

She was blushing profusely as she led the way out of the sitting room and up the stairs. She looked back over her shoulder at him "This is okay, right?" she asked, doubt slowly overtaking her bold actions.

Draco looked at her incredulously. "You've got to be kidding, Hermione."

She laughed nervously and he covered the two stairs of distance between them. "I love you," he said with a laugh. "You're really something."

And then suddenly it was no longer Hermione pulling him up the stairs but rather the other way around as she ran up the steps after him. She let out small, and self-deemed embarrassing, squeak as they reached the second floor when Draco bent and scooped her up in one fluid motion. She laughed as he walked both of them the rest of the way to his bedroom and deposited her gently on his very large bed.

He took her shoes off for her and tossed them aside and then kicked off his own shoes as well before joining her.

Hermione's heart was pounding uncontrollably in her chest as Draco's lips returned to hers. She wondered if he could hear it as he dropped a kiss to the hollow of her throat and tugged her jumper over her head with her compliance to raise her arms. She was nervous in the best way possible, thrilled and exhilarated and jittery all at once. Her thoughts were racing at what was nearly an alarming rate and between that and the feeling of his hands moving over her bare skin she almost missed it.

If it wasn't for the fact that he murmured it by her ear, it would have gone by unnoticed.

She froze. "Did you just say—"

"Marry me."

* * *

**A/N: I hope you liked this chapter. Please, please review. Let me know if there's anything you'd like to see happen, what you think may happen or if you have any constructive criticism for me it would be much appreciated.**

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter and let me know they were still reading! And welcome to any new readers, never really thought about the people who could just be jumping into this.**

**Anyways,**

**Scarlett**


	34. Chapter 34

Hermione watched with widened eyes as Draco sat up and reached into his pocket, unconsciously moving backwards. "Do..." She seemed at a loss. "Do you even know what you're saying?" She couldn't have possibly hated her voice more at that moment. She _squeaked_.

He pulled a black velvet box from his trousers' pocket and smirked. "I've been carrying this around for the past two weeks and I talked to your parents a few days ago. I know what I'm saying."

He opened the box to show her the gold ring inside of it, a round diamond flanked by two small rubies. It was beautiful and far from gaudy, something she appreciated.

"Two weeks?" she asked—her voice now just barely there.

He affirmed this with a nod.

"Why didn't you say anything?"

He gave her an obvious look. "Because, as far as my knowledge goes, that's not how proposals work. I'm saying something now. I'm proposing and, in case you haven't noticed, you've yet to give me an answer."

She disregarded the last bit of his response. "Now, how is that fair?" she said. "You had two weeks to ask and I have only two minutes to give you an answer?"

"Yours is a simple yes or no. I had to work up the nerve to ask," he said. "You'd either like to marry me or you wouldn't. To be honest, I'd really rather you did though."

She wanted to hit him. He thought now was a good time to joke around? Honestly.

This man, this gorgeous, amazing man was sitting there, hair tousled from her own hands, shirt halfway unbuttoned by her handiwork as well, and grey eyes hopeful as they stared back at her and offered the biggest promise she could ever imagine. Forever.

She could hardly think straight and she quickly came to the conclusion that it was simply because she didn't need to.

She smiled slightly. "No grand speech?" she asked.

"Haven't thought of one, no."

"No perfectly planned moment?" She watched him carefully then. For a brief moment she couldn't help but wonder if his asking _then_ had any correlation with what they were just about to do.

He shrugged, replying as though he'd read her mind. "Two weeks Hermione," he reminded. "Thought now was as good a time as any. Might've asked sooner if you hadn't put yourself in isolation."

She nodded. "No getting down on one knee?"

He shook his head with a chuckle and then stood up on the bed, offering his hand and helping her to stand as well. She felt incredibly exposed as she stood in front of him, close to half-naked and shivering just a tad.

He snapped the ring box shut and then got down on one knee, surprisingly steadily considering that he was standing on plush layers of bedding. "Marry me," he said again, opening the box back up.

She laughed, it was probably the wrong time to be laughing but she really couldn't suppress it. It was comical and damn near adorable the way he looked up at her. "No question about it either, I see."

"You can fight me on it if you want," he said. He sort of expected her agreement to require a bit of persuasion. "But eventually, with my charm and sexy good looks, you'll marry—"

"I'll marry you," she said.

The smirk she'd become so accustomed and so very much attracted to lifted the corner of his mouth devilishly. "Exactly," he said.

"No." She shook her head and held out her left hand. "Draco, I'll marry you."

His expression was surprised for a fraction of a second before he grinned, plucked the ring from its bed and kissed the knuckles on her left hand. He met her eyes as he slipped the ring on to her fourth finger, her wide smile confirming that she meant what she said.

Hermione felt the ring magically resize itself to her finger and she pulled her gaze from the man before her to get a good look at the new piece of jewellery adorning her hand. "Gryffindor," she commented.

Draco got to his feet once again and swept her up, taking them both back down and rolling to be sure he wouldn't crush her beneath his weight. "I did consider silver and green," he said, nuzzling her neck.

She couldn't help the elated laugh that escaped her. "You Slytherin," she accused. "No. I rather like this."

"As I'd thought," Draco said. "I suppose you'll just have to be _my_ Gryffindor."

Hermione leaned over him, one leg slipping between his as she set to work on the rest of the buttons on his shirt. She pushed the material off of his shoulders and immediately went to tugging the hem of his t-shirt up.

He chuckled at her advances but assisted in getting the offending garment off of his torso and onto the floor. Her hands began exploring the taut muscles of his chest and abdomen appreciatively, her lips coming down on his fervently.

Draco turned them over once more, bracing himself over her with a smirk. She mirrored it to perfection. "Suppose I'll have to be _your_ Gryffindor?" she echoed. "I suppose you'll have to make me."

* * *

Hermione curled into Draco's side, feeling utterly boneless and quite content. Her hand rested on his chest, not minding in the least the thin sheen of sweat on his skin as she was sure her skin had a similar glow. She sighed with a smile.

"It's been a really long time," he said.

Wrapped up in her own thoughts she hadn't heard him. "Pardon?" She hummed.

Draco chuckled and kissed the top of her head affectionately. "You are amazing," he said.

Hermione blushed at that but managed to return the compliment in a steady voice. She closed her eyes for a long moment and relaxed. A minute later she was pressing a soft kiss to the centre of his chest and shifting away from him. She got halfway out of bed, sheets clutched to her chest, and was reaching for the closest article of clothing to put on when Draco bolted upright.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

Hermione twisted around to look at him. "I thought I might get dressed," she said. "ls that alright?"

"Absolutely not," Draco snapped. He stretched forward and took the opportunity to wind his arm around her waist as she was momentarily distracted by the sight of his muscles as they moved beneath his alabaster skin. He leaned closer, wrapped his other arm around her midsection as well, and began outlining her shoulder-blade with feather light kisses. She shivered involuntarily and he guided her back to lie down against him.

"Draco," she complained. The rest of the words she'd been formulating were quickly lost as his lips pressed against her neck, kissing and nipping their way to her shoulder.

"Draco," she began again. He hummed acknowledgement into the juncture of her neck and shoulder and she laughed. "Draco, let me go. We can't go to sleep. It's almost dinner time. And Juliet and Estelle will be back any second now. I won't explain myself to be in such a state."

"Such a state?" Draco asked. "I think you look stunning. Beautiful. Best you've ever-"

"I am naked," she reminded, as though he might have forgotten. He most definitely hadn't. "I need a shower," she pronounced. "Or at least to dress."

He sighed in resignation. "Fine." His arms remained firmly around her. "You go jump in the shower and I'll join you in a moment."

"You will _not_ be joining me."

"Well, then you will _not_ be leaving this bed."

She frowned as she pulled the sheet even closer to her body.

"I don't see why you're so modest," he commented. "I've already seen everything. Every inch," the back of his hand travelled down her arm. "Every curve," his hand dipped with the line of her waist.

She squirmed as his trailing fingers tickled her. "Okay. Let me up. We'll go shower."

"We'll," Draco repeated. "I like the sound of that."

She slipped out bed and pulled the sheets with her, moving to gather her clothes.

"Your...sleepwear is in the top drawer," Draco said.

She folded her clothes, or what she could find anyway. Her bra could not be found for the moment. Opening the top drawer Draco had indicated, she quickly found the comfortable clothes she frequently slept in when at the manor unprecedentedly. She turned to Draco in expectance.

"You go on," he waved her towards the en suite. "I'm going to call Mitzy. She'll tidy up, do a bit of laundry so you can have your knickers back."

Hermione, for once, did not protest to having the elves do a task she was capable of herself. Instead, she nodded and went over to the bathroom, dropping the sheet just before she slipped behind the door. Draco heard the water running a minute later and he fell back on the bed with a lazy smile, far beyond satisfied and a tad smug. Maybe more than a tad.

He slipped his pants back on, not overly happy to dress so soon, before calling Mitzy. The elf made quick work of righting the bed and folding all discarded clothing and Draco couldn't help but feel slightly discontented at watching her clean up. Well aware that he'd be joining Hermione and back to his natural state in a few moments, he wasn't at all complaining, however he was surprised to find that he had wanted to stay in bed a little while longer.

He'd certainly never been the cuddling type before. Spooning, post-sex embracing, none of it had ever really been his forte. Hermione had most definitely done something to him. He wasn't even sure he disliked it; all he was sure about was that he wanted Hermione back and flush against him within the next minute.

And that want would be met very soon. And he definitely liked that.

* * *

"Hey, Hermione, you're on your feet again!" George grinned, swinging open the door looking down at her. "Great to see you!"

"Thanks George," Hermione said with a smile. "Great to see you as well. I've come bearing gifts." She held up the bag of Christmas presents she had yet to give to the Weasleys. "Are your mum and dad home?" she asked politely.

George laughed and nodded, pulling her inside from the frosty Saturday air and shutting the door behind her. "Good timing actually, you've got a fair percentage of the Weasleys here and the Potters too. Mum decided to make us lunch."

Hermione nodded.

George went on. "I assume she doesn't know you're well again, seeing as I can't fathom why else you weren't already here."

Hermione shed her thick coat along with her hat, scarf and mittens before giving him a wide smile. "I was going to floo everyone but decided I'd just drop by quickly instead."

"Well, we just finished lunch, but I'm sure there's still some food left if you're hungry."

"Who is that George?" Angelina called from the living room.

"Hermione's here," George replied.

She stepped into view and gave the small crowd a wave, seeing Harry, Ginny, James, Ron, Angelina and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. "Hello."

"Are you hungry dear?" Molly asked. "There's food in-"

"No, I'm fine thanks," Hermione said quickly. "I was just coming by to give you all your Christmas presents, and to thank you for the gifts I received. They were lovely."

"You're welcome," the group said.

"Where's Draco?" Ginny asked.

"Business meeting," Hermione replied. George returned to his spot next to Angelina and Hermione followed him into the room and properly greeted everyone before retrieving her bag of gifts.

More thank-yous and you're-welcomes were exchanged as presents were handed out and unwrapped. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley went out to run errands, telling them all they'd be back within the hour and that they were more than welcomed to stay. Hermione settled into the couch alongside Harry and Ginny, James as well as he was constantly switching from either sitting or standing on his father's lap whilst babbling to his mum. Harry was being mindful of where in his lap James' feet landed as he jumped around, and throwing his two cents in as Ron told Hermione of the incident that had occurred in the auror's department the other day when some idiot threw a case file in with the outgoing post.

Hermione laughed with them as they described their day spent alternating between hunting down a criminal and a bloody case file.

She shook her head at them, her hair promptly falling into her face, and as she moved a hand to tuck the stray curls back behind her ear, Ron, sitting across from her, squinted and shielded his eyes. "Oi!" he exclaimed. A spot of light had streamed directly at his eyes.

Hermione quickly and quietly dropped her hand and covered it with her right.

Ron's eyes opened. "What was that?" he asked, looking around for the source. "I feel like I've been blinded."

"Mate, I think you're being a little dramatic," Harry said.

Angelina laughed and looked at Hermione's folded hands. "She hardly blinded you, Ron."

"She?"

Ginny grinned. "I don't suppose you boys would notice," she said. "Hermione would be the culprit Ron. Her and the rock she's wearing."

"What?"

Harry planted James on his lap and reached for his friend's hand, prying the left from under the right and staring at the ring on her finger. "Merlin's beard, when he said he was going to marry you...he sure meant it."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "And by that you would mean...?"

Ron jumped in with an explanation, as Ginny took Hermione's hand from Harry's and looked at the ring herself, admiring Draco's taste. "Daphne was teasing him at Christmas, about how back at school he swore falling in love was a load of rubbish or something," Ron said, "and Draco basically shrugged it off and said that you were different and that he-"

Ginny laughed. "Was going to marry you!" she exclaimed, cutting her brother off. "Congratulations Hermione!"

Hermione smiled like a fool as they all hugged her.

"No wonder you seem so deliriously happy," Ginny commented. "I thought it was just because the fever had passed."

Harry shook his head. "I can't believe you two are getting married. I'm so happy for you, Hermione. Why didn't you say anything? When did he propose?"

She looked sheepish. "Yesterday, actually. I hadn't thought of a way to bring it up and I wasn't sure if this was the reaction I'd get," she admitted. "But...you're all okay with this, then? I mean, you mean it when you say you're...happy, right?"

"Happy you're happy," George proclaimed, the exact sentiments of everyone else in the room.

"That's all that matters," Ron chipped in.

"Draco's good for you," Ginny told her, though she already knew this quite well, "it was only a matter of time really. And even Harry was saying the other day that Draco is practically becoming one of his best mates."

Ron looked at Harry with what could only be described as outrage.

"Better mates," Harry corrected, "I said better mates."

"Either way," Ginny cut in, throwing one of James' baby shoes at Ron and telling him to relax, "he most definitely is fitting in here."

Hermione knew without a doubt that she was right.

"So, how did he propose?" Angelina asked excitedly. "Did he plan something? Did he catch you by surprise? What were you doing?"

Hermione's cheeks flamed at the question as she stammered to say that they weren't doing anything and Harry laughed with a grin.

George took one look at Hermione's face, seconds before she covered it with her hands, and said, "Bet I can guess what they were doing."

Angelina slapped her boyfriend's arm, chastising him despite the teasing smile on her own face. Ron ran a hand through his hair and shook his head at her, his grin matching Harry's quite well.

Ginny wrapped an arm around Hermione as the girl tried to hide herself away. "Oh, leave her alone, you lot," she snapped. "Get your minds out of the gutter."

"Thank you," Hermione said. "And it wasn't like that."

"Sure it wasn't," Ginny whispered, not at all meaning it. "Know that I'm only saving you so you can tell me all the details later."

She desperately wished the blush away from her face to no avail. Now, she was really thinking herself stupid for not bringing Draco along. At least then she wouldn't suffer this teasing alone. Although, knowing Draco, he'd probably be relishing, not suffering, and smirking as he kissed her cheek and kept quiet.

Of course, she knew she would be telling Ginny the story later, seeing as she would never tell of the events to Harry or Ron in any such detail and to be honest, she was so incredibly happy that she could barely contain herself, even through her current embarrassment. It wouldn't take much for the redhead to get the story out of her because, damn it all, she was dying to tell someone.

* * *

Draco was in a similar situation at a much smaller scale.

"That was worst presentation we've sat through yet," Blaise announced as he and Draco left the conference room. "I still can't decide which one is stupider-the bloke who spilled the product down the front of your shirt or the one who tried to clean it up."

Draco looked down at his stained apparel in distaste. "Yes, their presentation was crap," he agreed. "It could have been worse though."

Blaise's eyes narrowed in Draco's direction at his comment. "Why aren't you as pissed as you should be?" he asked. They reached the lifts and Draco pushed the button.

"It could have been worse," he repeated.

"Were you even listening to what they were saying?" Blaise said accusingly. "That was a complete waste of time." He pointed back in the direction they came and Draco shrugged.

"I don't know what's gotten into you," Blaise told him. "I mean, really-"

"I'm engaged," Draco interrupted abruptly.

Blaise looked at him as though he'd gone mental. "What?"

"I asked Hermione to marry me, and she said yes." The lift arrived and Draco stepped on, giving Blaise an expectant look when he didn't move.

"You're engaged," Blaise repeated, as he shook his head and got in the small area, the doors sliding shut.

"I am," Draco agreed.

"Well...congratulations," Blaise wished unsurely, his expression still nonplussed. "I suppose that explains your oh so sickeningly cheery disposition."

Draco didn't bother with a glare, he just smirked.

"There's more, isn't there?"

Draco's smirk only broadened.

"Great Merlin," Blaise said, "you slept with her."

The ding the lift made as it arrived at their destination was too fitting. The doors opened and Draco strode out, Blaise following after him.

"Well, well, well, Mister Malfoy," he drawled, "you've just got it all now, haven't you?"

"I've never felt more spoiled," Draco told him. Already knowing the comment that was sure to come his way in a second, he figured he'd just get it all out there. "She is the second best thing that has ever happened to me. Juliet being the first."

"Well if it wasn't for the little one then Granger probably wouldn't have happened to you at all anyway, now would she?" Blaise pointed out.

Draco conceded with this as the two of them made their way to the floo.

"I should have seen it coming," Blaise mused, "but I can't believe you're getting married."

They got in the queue for the floo.

"You'll be my best man," Draco said.

"Sure," Blaise agreed.

"And while I'm naming you things," Draco continued, "I should tell you that I want to make you Juliet's godfather as well."

"Godfather? Are you serious?" Blaise asked.

He nodded. "Never got around to it, but you're the only person I see fit for the job. I can't imagine that Pansy would have it any other way either."

Draco grabbed a handful of floo powder as he was next in line. Blaise hugged him then, patting his back before letting go. "Thank you," he said sincerely. "I..."

Draco shook his head, understanding what Blaise meant without either of them being able to form the right words.

"It means a lot," Blaise said finally, but Draco had already disappeared in green flames.

He arrived home to find Estelle and Juliet in the sitting room, a padded blanket laid out as Juliet was crawling about and Estelle was kneeling at the edge of the blanket, watching her and singing some sort of nursery rhyme.

The woman smiled at him as he entered the room and placed his briefcase next to the couch before joining her and his daughter. "Hello," Estelle said.

Draco returned the greeting as Juliet scrambled her way over to him and into his lap. He kissed the top of her head. "How was everything today?" he asked.

"Splendid," Estelle replied. "Not a single fit today."

Draco chuckled. "Good to hear."

"And how was your meeting?" Estelle asked.

He shook his head. "Quite the show." He looked at Juliet. "Dad met some funny people today," he told her, his voice light. "Absolute morons." He summoned a few of the little girl's toys and spread them out on the blanket to give her something to crawl towards.

"Did you tell Mister Zabini of your engagement?" Estelle asked.

Draco nodded. "I did. He took it well actually. Thought he'd tell me I was ruining my life."

Estelle shook her head. "Surely, Mister Zabini deserves more credit."

"Hardly."

"Well, I for one think you and Miss Granger and Juliet are meant for each other."

"She's a mother, isn't she?" Draco asked.

Estelle nodded. "She is."

"And she's practically my wife already."

This Estelle considered. "Practically," she said, "though I'm sure some things will change."

Draco knew he couldn't disagree with that, though he couldn't define it either. He smiled. "We're going to be a family," he stated.

Estelle laughed. "Draco," she said, shaking her head at him, "you are a family."

* * *

**A/N: There's that chapter. The process to writing this story had changed from when I first started. I now write majority of it on document manager and then go back, edit and "flesh out" the chapter by adding little detailing bits and better adjectives. I'm not sure if it's better or worse this way. **

**Now, thank you to everybody who reads this, has favourited it, followed it or me as an author. That's always great. And thanks to all of you reviewers, you guys are the best. **

**Hope you liked the chapter. Hope it didn't disappoint.**

**Anyways,**

**Scarlett**


	35. Chapter 35

"Draco?" Hermione whispered imploringly. The man beside her didn't even stir. She sighed quietly. "Draco?" she tried yet again.

She lifted herself on her elbow to lean over him, splaying a hand flat on his chest. "Draco, come on." Her hand moved with the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed even and deep in his slumber.

She pressed a kiss to his temple and rose from the bed. "Fine," she said, "be that way." She stuck her tongue out childishly at his sleeping form and wandered into the bathroom to prepare for the day. She did the necessities before going back into bedroom.

She eyed the drawer that she knew contained the one or two jumpers and a pair of denims that she left there, just as she kept a toothbrush alongside his now. She considered it for a moment before instead venturing into the walk-in closet. She ran a hand along the many collared shirts that hung there and then turned a full circle to spot a white long-sleeve that appealed to her.

Lifting the hanger from the rod, she smiled and slipped the garment off. After she put the hanger back where she'd found it, she went returned to the bedroom and pulled out her own jeans from the drawer. Shedding her pyjamas, she went about finding her camisole as quietly as she could.

Draco woke up in time to see her slip on the located undershirt and wriggle into her jeans.

"Damn," he cursed. "Moments too late."

She laughed as she met his gaze, shaking her head at him while his grin spread slow and sexy on his face. "Good morning," she sang.

He swung himself out of bed and strode over to her as she slipped her arms into the button-up she'd nicked.

"Morning," he greeted, a sleepy kind of peace still holding him. "That's my shirt."

She fiddled to button it up. "It is," she agreed. "You don't mind, do you?"

He came around behind her, his hands finding her waist and turning her to face him. "No. You look quite nice in it, actually."

"Why, thank you."

"Where are you off to?" he asked.

She turned and began folding her sleepwear. "The shop," she replied. "And then I told Harry and Ginny I'd stop by for a drink or something."

Draco frowned.

"You're welcome to come along," Hermione invited. "Whenever you and Blaise are finished lounging around and calling it work, come by the shop. I'll probably leave at about six.

He paused. "Okay."

She smiled, rolling the too long sleeves of his shirt up to her elbows. "I'll see you later then," she told him, taking her wand from the bedside table. "I'm just going to say goodbye to Juliet."

"Shall she come along tonight as well?" Draco asked.

Hermione nodded as she returned to stand in front of him and place an incredibly soft and sweet kiss to his lips. "Definitely. James will be there."

"Alright then." He moved to kiss her again but she continued to talk.

"Tell Blaise I said hello."

He nodded and then began to bend his head towards her once again.

"Oh! Juliet has run out of socks," Hermione announced. "I was going to pick some up yesterday but it completely slipped my mind. If you're already going out today then-"

"I'll buy her socks," Draco agreed quickly, his lips meeting hers. She attempted to get another word out but it was muffled by his kiss.

"Okay," she gave him a smile, "I'm off to work. Bye."

* * *

Hermione opened up the shop and went in, beginning her morning's to-dos. She shrugged off her cloak and opened the register, lit the fireplace and placed the required precautionary containment charms on it.

A short while later Cory arrived, nattering on about why she was late and what catastrophe kept her and slowed her morning.

"Good morning, Cory," Hermione greeted simply, not bothering to acknowledge the excuses and instead continued on in her work.

Cory hopped up on the counter, something that bothered Hermione to no end but never seemed to resound in the younger girl's mind, and took the prophet that was sticking out of Hermione's bag. As Cory began scanning the first page, Hermione simply shook her head. Boundaries were nearly non-existent to Cory, this had become apparent within the first week she had been working with Hermione.

"I...haven't read that yet," Hermione said. "What does it say this fine morning?"

"Nothing interesting," Cory complained. "Gringott's has a new policy implemented on...hang on. Hermione! Oh, my gosh! Is this true? Let me see it!"

Suddenly Cory was off the counter, a flurry of orange jumper and dark hair flying Hermione's way and grabbing at Hermione's hands. "Why didn't you _tell_ me," she demanded as her eyes landed on the diamond on her boss's finger, "that you and Draco got _engaged_?"

Hermione gave her a funny look. "I've been wearing the ring for the past week. You haven't asked."

"How was I supposed to know?" Cory said. "Wow, it's beautiful. How rich is he?"

Hermione was appalled at the questioning but disregarded it in favour of a more pressing matter. "Is our engagement is in the paper now?" she asked. "What does it say?"

Cory went on. "I can't believe you kept this from me."

"What does it say?" Hermione asked again.

"When did he propose? _How_ did he propose?"

"Cory!" Hermione snapped. "_What does it say_? Could you please just-" Giving up, she took her hand back from the girl and marched over to snatch the paper up for her own perusal.

"_War Heroine, Hermione Granger, Betrothed to Ex-Death Eater_,_ Draco Malfoy,_" Hermione read to herself quietly. Her eyes quickly skimmed over the paragraphs. The picture accompanying the short piece was of Hermione and Draco exiting the bookshop, Juliet held on her hip as Draco ran a hand over his hair. A close up of her left hand graced the page as well, the ring blurry due to the distance from which the picture must have been taken. "_Miss Granger has been caring for Mister Malfoy's neglected lovechild as her own for a number of months…_" She closed her eyes and began to curse under her breath.

Cory watched with widened eyes.

Hermione abruptly jumped and whipped the paper closed. "Cory, I have to go."

"What?"

"Merlin, Draco's probably already read this and I can't imagine what he's…" Hermione stopped herself and took a deep breath. She tossed the paper in the rubbish bin behind the counter and flew to the door. "I have to go. I'll be back in a flash, but _please_ just keep everything in order and help any customers that come in here the best you can. Okay?"

"Okay," Cory replied, beginning to wander about the shop.

"I'll be right back," Hermione said again. She left the shop and apparated back to the manor. "Draco?" she called.

There was no response.

"Yip?"

The little elf popped into the foyer, meeting her with a short nod. "Yes, Miss?"

"Where is Draco?" she asked.

"In the study, Miss."

"Thank you." She turned to head in that direction but stopped and turned back to the elf before she could get very far. "Do you…do you know if he's read the prophet yet?"

Yip nodded sadly. "Yes, Miss. The paper was with Master Draco's breakfast. Yip…Master Draco is not being happy in his study, Miss."

Hermione let out a slow breath. "Thank you."

She hurried her way to the study and entered without knocking. "Draco, I take it you've seen the paper?"

It was blown to bits on the floor.

"Yes."

"I…I'm so sorry."

"Why are you sorry?" Draco asked. "You didn't write it."

"Yes, but—"

"Did you read it?" he demanded.

"I read a bit," she told him.

"Any thoughts?" he asked.

Hermione's eyebrows drew together. She hadn't known what to expect from him. Anger would have been her first guess, and the scraps of the prophet lying about told her she would have been right. However, now she wasn't quite sure what he was feeling. He was hiding emotions, that much she could tell.

She knew Draco would never be an open book. That wasn't the person he was and she accepted that, respected it even as he had a right to keep some things to himself. Everyone did. What she could not accept was this bottling up he tended to do. He wasn't an expressive person by nature, that was fine, but she expected him to at least try to communicate.

She had no desire to play through this game.

"It's ridiculous," she told him. "I don't know who their source is but—"

He leaned forward on his desk, meeting her eyes and putting his weight on his hands. "They called her a neglected…bastard."

"Draco!" Hermione exclaimed.

He went on without any notice to her outburst, his voice sounding strangely detached and flat. It was oddly familiar to Hermione in the worst way. "The daughter of a death eater."

"Draco," she said again. "You know that everyone, everyone that counts, they don't see it that way. At all. They're lies. I thought by now that you'd—"

"No," Draco interrupted. "No. That's the problem. They're not. Everything they said about me is true. Did you _read_ the damn article? Hermione, nothing they said about me was a lie."

"Did _you_ read it?" she asked. The anger began to warm its way through her. "You are _nothing_ like they described! I don't know what you're on about but stop it. Stop it _right now_. If you think a word of what they said is anything but an ill-informed attempt at gossip then you're denser than…I don't even—"

"You and Juliet," Draco said. "_Those_ were lies. You are much more than they said. So much more. But…nothing they wrote of me was a lie. I _was_ a death eater. I _did_ date my fair share of women. I _was_ an arse to you. And I _did_ fight for the dark side. I was irresponsible. I got a woman pregnant and she _died_ because of it. Yet somehow I'm fit to be someone's father."

"Draco, would you just—"

"They're right. They're right about me. And I can't believe—"

She felt as if her hand acted on its own accord. It was under no direction but impulse that it swung upwards and, fast and quick, she slapped him.

His reaction was unknown to her as her head immediately dropped and her eyes widened at her own feet, horrified and instantly remorseful. Her hands slid into her hair. "I'm sorry," she said. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I should never have…Draco, I'm…" Her hands lowered to her sides, itching to reach out for him.

"Merlin's beard," Draco murmured, his hand against his stinging cheek, having flown to it on instinct the moment she'd struck him. "You've only gotten stronger since we were thirteen then, haven't you?" He rubbed his cheek a moment before his hand dropped and he shook his head.

So it was still Draco standing in front of her, she thought, there was no mistaking that. Hermione felt the tears spring to her eyes as she saw the red imprint of her own hand against his alabaster skin. "I'm sorry," she said again.

"Really," he said dryly.

She nodded.

"Well," he said, "you got me to shut up. What is it you'd like to say?"

She let out a slow sigh. "You need to take a good look at everything. Did you even _think _before you went on to all this 'woe is me' rubbish? _You_ are _not_ unfit to be Juliet's father," she said. "I don't know how you could possibly think that. You love that little girl like she's your entire world. It's mental to let one stupid article make you doubt that. Do you _hear_ yourself?" She was beside herself with incredulity.

He pulled a hand through his hair roughly. "It's not the article. It's just that I never thought about what it would be like," he said tiredly. "Everything is fine right now. She's a baby. She has no idea of the bad in the world that goes on around her. But, what would she say if she read it?" Draco asked. "What if Juliet read that? What would she say?"

Hermione shook her head and closed her eyes. "Draco," she met his eyes then, staring straight at him, "what's more important is what _you_ would say."

Draco dropped himself into the chair behind his desk. His elbows hit the wooden surface with a thud and his head came to rest on his hands. "I don't know," he muttered. "I don't know what I'd say."

Hermione came to stand beside him, leaning against the desk and moving in front of him when he wouldn't face her. "I can't keep having this conversation with you," she said. "You're not that person anymore. Everyone else knows that. I don't understand why you can't see that. After all the time we've spent together I just…I don't understand. What is it that will convince you?"

It took him a moment before he realized that she had asked him a genuine question that sought a genuine answer. "For her to grow up," he said, "for her to grow up and never have to question what kind of a man I am. What kind of a father." He closed his eyes. "That's unrealistic."

"All children ask about their parents' past," Hermione said, brushing the hair away from his forehead.

"What am I going to say?" he asked. "That I hated her mum in school? I joined the darkest wizard in his ploy to torture and kill the masses?"

"Mum."

Draco looked up at that. "What?"

"You hated _me_ in school," Hermione clarified.

"But I love you now," he said. "See, this why I can't just forget that—"

"Her mum," Hermione repeated. "You…you referred to me as Juliet's…as her mum. I…is that what I'll be?"

He chuckled. "I thought that's what you are."

"Oh."

"What about…"

The name hung loudly in the silence.

"I haven't figured that out yet," Draco confessed. "I haven't figured any of it out. What happens when she wants an explanation?"

"You'll give her one," Hermione said. "In fact, _we'll _give her one. We'll tell her the truth, Draco."

"Yes," he said dryly, "because every daughter wants a villain for a dad."

She laughed. "You're no villain. You're just a bloke who had some terrible circumstances surrounding his misguided teen years."

"I'm sure she'll understand," Draco commented sarcastically.

"She will," Hermione said.

"Likely."

She shook her head. "You need to go meet Blaise."

"You need to go back to work."

"Yes. So, here's what we will do:" Hermione declared, "you will go meet Blaise, you will go about your day and then come with me to Harry and Ginny's. You will bring Juliet. _I_ am going back to work. I will meet you at five and we will depart to Harry and Ginny's. We will come back to this topic tonight, understood?"

He looked at her with reluctant amusement as he replied, "Yes ma'am."

"Good." She placed a kiss to his forehead and then on his lips as he tilted his face towards her expectantly. When her lips left his, he made to stand from the chair but she took hold of his chin and turned his face to the side. "Oh my," she said.

He went to touch his cheek but she brushed his hand away, surveying the red mark herself. "Can you count five fingers?" he asked.

"Draco, I'm so sorry." She winced as her fingertips touched feather light over the mark. She took out her wand and pressed the tip to his cheek, murmuring a spell. Draco felt a cool tingle spread along his skin. Hermione's lips followed softly after her wand.

She smiled ruefully. "I'm really sorry. That…there's no excuse."

He smirked. "I've received worse. At least this time I don't have to walk around with a red cheek."

"Well, not red per se," she told him. "You just have a bit of a blush now, I'm afraid."

"I can deal with that," Draco said. "So long as you give me something to blush about."

* * *

"So, Ginny, I read the article you wrote on Puddlemere."

Draco moved Juliet to sit between him and Hermione, her bottle finished and her chin milk-free. James toddled over to Juliet and pulled at her pink booties. The little girl watched him curiously but didn't fuss as the boy smiled at her.

"And?" Ginny asked, keeping an eye on her son's actions. "I'm sure you've something to say about it. What are you?"

Hermione gave Ginny and Draco a funny look, prompting Ginny to elaborate. "I've only gotten two different responses for that piece," she said. "It's either utter crap or complete brilliance. What are you, Mister Malfoy?"

"Complete brilliance," Draco told her, smirking around his glass of wine. "However, I'd like to see what you'd say otherwise, so for the sake of a good argument, your piece was utter crap."

As Ginny indulged the hypothetical, Hermione shook her head, turning to Harry.

"Have you two talked about the wedding yet?" Harry asked pleasantly. "When? Where? Who's invited?"

"No, nope, and…well, you're invited, Harry," Hermione told him with a grin.

He beamed back. "I better be. Otherwise I'd have to sneak in and Merlin knows how good I am at that."

Hermione laughed. "All too well," she said.

"Big wedding or small wedding?" Harry asked.

"I…" Hermione stopped. Ginny and Draco seemed to tune into the conversation between her and Harry then. "I don't know. Draco?" she asked. "Big wedding or small wedding?"

Draco shrugged. "Whatever you'd like."

"Typical," Ginny said. "Men are so disinterested in anything planning related."

"Hey!" Harry protested. "I helped with all of the wedding plans!"

"Yes, Harry, you were wonderful. But you are also far from typical," his wife told him.

"And I'm not disinterested," Draco contradicted, "I just don't mind either way. So long as we're both there, Hermione makes it all the way down the aisle, we're pronounced husband and wife and I get to take her home and carry her over the threshold, I'm happy."

"And which threshold would that be?" Ginny questioned.

"Pardon?" Draco said.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Where are you two going to live?" she asked slowly. "Hermione, are you moving in with Draco then?"

Hermione placed her glass on the coffee table. "No," she began. Draco looked noticeably surprised. "Did…did you expect me to?"

"I—why wouldn't you?"

Harry and Ginny shared a look. "Well, you have plenty of time to figure it out," Ginny said hurriedly.

"Yeah, I don't think Gin and I decided to move in here at Grimmauld until we had started planning the wedding already," Harry added.

"I don't think I could live in the manor," Hermione said, hardly hearing her friends as she faced Draco with a troubled look.

"Why not?" he asked.

"I'm not comfortable there. It's always going to hold bad memories."

"You've been fine until now," Draco pointed out.

Hermione was set on edge by this and somewhere in the back of his mind Draco was realizing that he should not have said that. It would have been a good idea to take it back then, do his best to erase the comment's existence entirely. Draco was sorely lacking in good ideas in that moment though and it was due to this that the conversation continued as it did. Badly.

"I don't like it there," she said.

"What?"

"I. Don't. Like. It. There." Her voice remained calm as ever but her eyes looked at him expectantly, daring him to say something contradictory.

"So, all this time you've just hated—"

"I haven't hated being there," she said. "I just…Draco, you have to understand, I can't _live _there. I can't make that place my home. I can't—I _won't_, for matter."

Harry and Ginny were looking at each other uncomfortably; both thinking that perhaps Hermione and Draco needed some privacy. Neither Hermione nor Draco took notice of this.

"And you're only saying something now?" Draco asked.

"We're only talking about it now," Hermione countered.

Draco sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"So, you won't move in to the manor?"

"No," she said flatly.

"Alright then." But there was a tightness to his voice.

Hermione swallowed her last bit of wine and then thanked Harry and Ginny and made her excuses.

Draco stood with her but she kept her eyes from him as she said goodnight and that she'd see him tomorrow. He sat back down, pulling Juliet into his lap, and watched Hermione disappear with a crack.

There was an awkward silence as Draco closed his eyes and Harry shook his head, Ginny rolled her eyes and said something about men being oblivious under her breath.

"Scale of one to ten," Draco muttered to the floor, "how badly did I just screw things?"

Harry laughed. "Mate, you have to give us a point of reference," he said.

"One being…hardly at all, and ten being…Voldemort," Draco drawled in exasperation.

"Six," Ginny said decidedly.

"Damn it all," Draco said.

"It's not so bad," Harry consoled, a smirk still quirking the corners of his mouth.

"Not so bad," Draco echoed. "Not when you add it to the four or five I caused earlier today."

Ginny gave him a sympathetic, yet amused look. "Well, then in that case you've gone and broken the scale, Malfoy." She hopped up from the couch and scooped up her son, telling Harry that she was going to get him settled for bed.

Harry shook his head at the sorrowful man before him. "Malfoy, tell me you're not so much of an arse that you can't at least understand why Hermione wouldn't want—"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Yes, I understand. But why the bloody hell is she only mentioning this _now_? If I had known that she couldn't handle being there then I—we could have dealt with this…"

"Dealt with it?" Harry asked. "Malfoy, you have more money than you know what to do with and even if you didn't, your house is bloody massive. Move!"

"What?"

"Oh, for Merlin's sake! Move. Go somewhere else. Find another house."

"Oh."

Harry threw his hands up. "Malfoy," he muttered.

"Is she really that angry?" Draco asked.

Harry leaned back on the couch and shrugged. "Knowing Hermione, I'd bet that she's mostly upset that she didn't think to bring this up beforehand and that _both_ of you…well, I'm not entirely sure what just happened but she's gone and left and you're still here, and well, I'm not entirely sure why that is, either."

Draco scowled.

"You know, I bet if you went home now within the next half hour Hermione would be there wanting to talk things out. Or apologize. I don't really know how you two fight yet. Only ever been me and her or her and Ron."

This only furthered Draco's scowl.

"Oh, don't be a tosser," Harry said. "Besides, now that Hermione's gone, I don't know that I want you here anymore." He grinned and Draco laughed.

"Cuing me home, Potter?" Draco asked. "And I was having such a great time."

"You're leaving, Malfoy?" Ginny reappeared then, her son away in his bed now. "Going to Hermione's?"

Draco stood and then lifted Juliet in his arms, adjusting her comfortably in his hold. She pulled on the collar of his shirt and let out quiet cry. Draco sighed. "Apparently not," he said, nodding at his daughter with fond aggravation.

"She's probably just tired," Ginny said, sitting down next to her husband and leaning against him with a tired yawn of her own. Juliet whimpered.

"I know she's tired," Draco said, "thanks for pointing that out."

"So, what're you getting your knickers all in a twist for?" Ginny asked. "Take her home and put her to sleep."

Juliet began to cry. "That's why," he said. "And she's just getting started."

Harry nodded in understanding.

"Anyway," Draco said, as his daughter's cries began to gain volume, "thanks for having us."

"See you Sunday."

* * *

Draco rocked Juliet back and forth and back forth and pressed buttons on the tape recorder in effort to get the tape to play. It would not comply and the black ribbon Hermione had mentioned to be quite important in her tutorial of the little mechanism appeared to be all knotted up within the device.

He sighed.

Juliet cried.

Estelle was off fixing another bottle for the baby, in the unlikely case that it would help, so Draco was on his own for the moment, bouncing gently with Juliet and singing something he often heard Hermione singing around her. Something about teddy bears. He didn't know the real words in all honesty. He was just making some up on the spot, not too terrible, if he did say so himself, and it wasn't as though Juliet was about to correct him. If she could even hear him over her wailing.

Estelle came back then, no bottle in sight, Draco noticed.

"Well?" Draco asked.

"I've something better," Estelle said.

"What?" Draco asked, raising his voice above Juliet's crying.

Hermione shook her head and came through the door, taking Juliet from him and smiling kindly at Estelle. "We had a conversation to finish," she told him. She held the infant close her and rubbed soothing circles on her back, swaying from side to side and gently hushing her.

Within minutes, Estelle had retired to her room and Juliet's tears had ceased. Hermione turned to the exhausted man beside her.

"We'll move," he said.

She laughed softly. "We do have quite a bit to sort through, don't we? "

"I hadn't known you weren't comfortable here," he told her.

"This isn't me. I can't picture raising a family here," she stated, sighing as she realized that brought up yet another question. "Draco, do you want more kids?"

He looked at his daughter, who looked so much like him, asleep in her crib at last. "Do you?"

"I do."

"Soon?"

"No."

He pulled her snugly against his side and kissed the top of her head. "Okay. I'm thinking strong coffee and chat?"

"Milk, please."

"Milk it is."

* * *

**A/N: Can I be totally honest with all of you? I'm going to be totally honest with all of you. I am awful for not updating this. I am very sorry. But, I sort of hate this story now. I don't think of it like I used to and I really hate that. I don't know if any of you are still reading, bless your hearts if you are, but I'm feeling really conflicted about what I'm going to do with this now. **

**I'm sure that gives you a lot of confidence in me, no?**

**On a side note, if you ever review with questions, please sign in so I can at least attempt to reply to them and offer a decent answer. Also, thank you all for FIVE HUNDRED REVEIWS! They mean a whole lot.**

**Anyways,**

**Scarlett**


	36. Chapter 36

It was quiet, dark, and warm as the fire crackled in the hearth and Draco's hands clasped over Hermione's midsection, her back against his chest and their legs stretched out along the length of the couch. She had told him, when he first led her into his bedroom for their chat, as he'd called it, that they should sit rather than get comfortable on the bed and that they really ought to take a seat and face each other and have it all out in one conversation.

She had gotten her way for the first little while. They had sat up and sipped from their mugs and Draco had started lightly with thoughts of when and where they would move. Hermione hadn't felt ready to bring up any other subject quite yet and so she allowed them the time to just sit and let the beverages warm them along with the prettier thoughts of a home to share entirely. Draco had finished his coffee relatively quickly in Hermione's opinion and as soon as his hands were free he had pulled her closer and she had let him with only one minor protest.

She was still sipping her milk, Draco's chin resting atop her head as they felt the movement of each other's every breath. She set the milk aside, a few sips from being finished, pulling herself up a bit and thus forcing him to move his chin from the crown of her head to her shoulder. "Go on," he encouraged. "What first?"

"Pansy. I would really like to be Juliet's mum," she said softly. "But if I'm her mum, what about Pansy? I suppose…it really is up to you…but I want her to know who she is."

Draco closed his eyes. "Pansy is Juliet's mother. I don't intend to keep that from her in any way. It's about time I put a picture of her up somewhere around here anyway. I can't keep pretending she's just never going to come up again."

Hermione tucked her hands under Draco's, smiling tenderly as his fingers immediately disentangled from each other and folded around hers. She squeezed gently in affirmation. "I've got the story worked out. About the young man who found himself on the wrong side of a war. How he realized he was wrong. How he had a best friend who gave him the most wonderful and precious gift before she left him. It's a lovely story, I'd say. And the best part is that it is one hundred percent true."

She could feel his smile as he kissed the base of her neck.

"I think you'll have to help me with the storytelling," Draco told her.

"Gladly," she replied.

He breathed in the smell of her hair and closed his eyes.

"Draco," she said, "will Juliet be the only little one to whom we tell the story?"

He paused.

"You don't want children," Hermione said. It was a statement, but she waited quietly for either contradiction or confirmation.

What she received was a sigh and one of his hands releasing hers to run over his hair. "Hermione, I never—"

"I know you never wanted children before," Hermione cut in. "But that was before Juliet and…" Before me, she wanted to add. Instead she went on, "I don't want to get married without knowing for sure. I want children, Draco. I always have, and I think I always will. That's not going to change. I would want Juliet to have siblings."

"I never even considered it until you came along," Draco finished. "Look, I can hardly manage Juliet as it is. I don't think I could—"

Hermione laughed. "She's going to grow up Draco; she won't need nappy changings forever," she said. "You were an only child. Surely you wished you had siblings?"

"Not as much as you, I'd suspect," Draco told her. "I was a spoiled, bratty, filthy rich child. I wasn't exactly keen on sharing."

Hermione's eyebrows furrowed. "You never got lonely?" she asked. "Ever?"

"I got lonely," he admitted. "The house elves were decent company on occasion and I always won when I harangued them into playing with me."

Hermione shook her head. "You must have been such a joy as a child," she drawled dryly.

"Oh, I was delightful," Draco returned.

She laughed lightly and then twisted a bit in his arms to face him. "I think I need a yes or no, Draco," she said seriously. "I don't want this to be something I have to talk you into. I'm sorry this didn't come up earlier but…I want it to be something we both want."

"Hermione..." And then he stopped. Draco suddenly saw it. He saw Hermione, her small frame swollen with a child that was equal parts her and him. He saw a nice, lived-in home with the belongings of a family contained within it. He saw a curly-haired toddler with warm brown eyes just like his mother. He saw Juliet, grown up to be a gorgeous little girl, running about a watching over another little one. He smiled. He saw a beautiful family.

"It is," he told her, twirling a lock of her soft hair around his finger.

"Do you mean that?" Hermione asked, trying to keep any obvious hopefulness out of her voice.

"With all my heart," he replied.

"Draco, are you sure that—"

"Absolutely positive," Draco said decidedly. "I quite like the thought of you having my children."

She couldn't help her slightly watery smile.

"We'll have to name the next one after a constellation, though," he added.

"Absolutely not."

"You'll come around."

"You'd like to think so."

"I know so."

"Draco."

"Aries."

"Draco."

"Scorpius."

"Draco."

"Leo."

"Draco."

"Draco II."

"Mental," she muttered. "Utterly mental."

* * *

Hermione was wandering from her bedroom, her eyes barely open and her feet shuffling along in an unawake state. She jumped as she heard a dull _thunk_ at the window and her eyes snapped wide open in startle, just in time to see Errol fall.

She leapt over to the window and threw it open to see the poor, old Weasley owl flapping his wings in an earnest attempt to save himself from his plummet. Hermione quickly pointed her wand at the flailing creature and levitated him and her letter back to her window. The bird nuzzled into her hand in appreciation, exhausted and alarmed.

Hermione gave Errol a treat and then claimed the letter addressed to her. She opened and scanned it quickly, a frown coming to her features before she penned a response back and sent it off.

"Morning, lovely."

She spun around to see Draco stepping out of the floo, Juliet situated on his hip and her diaper bag in hand. She strode over and took the baby from him, kissing each of them good morning and offering Draco a cup of coffee.

"I'll get the coffee," Draco said. "You're not even dressed yet. You go get ready. We'll be late for brunch."

"Actually," Hermione started, "I just got a letter from Mrs. Weasley. Arthur's caught a bug and she's nursing him back to health. Says it's rather contagious though and they haven't any idea what it is. Brunch has been cancelled."

"Cancelled?"

"Yes, sir," Hermione affirmed.

Draco put the diaper bag on the couch, put his shoes by the door and then started on the coffee. "So, what shall we do for breakfast then?" Draco asked.

Hermione grinned. "Dessert."

Draco grinned. "Sounds good. Just let me have my coffee."

Hermione went over to the coffee maker that Draco had switched on and inspected it. "Draco," she said. "You didn't put nearly enough coffee in here. This is going to taste awful."

Draco shrugged. "It's coffee, it's going to taste awful anyway."

She shook her head. "You've never made a cup of coffee before, have you?" she asked.

"Never," he responded shamelessly.

Hermione rolled her eyes and stopped the coffee maker. She handed Juliet back to Draco, smiling at the girl's pouting protest and then told them she'd be right back before retreating to her bedroom to change.

She emerged a few minutes later, presentable but comfy in her thick blue sweater and worn in jeans. She bundled up first Juliet and then herself while Draco got the diaper bag and put his shoes back on.

The walk was short, the weather cold, and Juliet was quick to express her hunger with restlessness. When they reached the small patisserie it was packed with people and Draco did not look pleased. Patience was never something he had in abundance.

The queue curved about the back of the shop to avoid people having to stand out in the cold, the tables were full and the queue was moving slowly. Hermione joined it patiently while Draco followed in disbelief. "Do you want to go somewhere else?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Everything's warm and freshly baked. It will be worth it. I promise."

He sighed.

"Besides, everyone is doing takeaway so the place should clear out in a little while."

He nodded and she smiled, twining her fingers through his. "Be patient," she sang.

As one may have been likely to guess, Hermione was right. Everyone who came to the shop after them deemed it too crowded and instead left in favour of something faster and everyone who was ahead of them got their sweet pastries in white takeaway boxes. Soon enough, the place was substantially less congested and Draco and Hermione had a clear view of the glass case.

"Mud cake," Hermione said.

"No."

"Why?"

"Awful name," he said.

"I want chocolate."

"How about cheesecake?" he suggested.

"How about no?"

"Why?"

"I want chocolate," she repeated liltingly.

"How about chocolate cheesecake?"

Hermione looked up at the new participant in their conversation. Charlie was coming through the door behind them, shedding his coat and rolling up the sleeves of a green Henley, smiling at the couple he recognized.

"There's an idea," Hermione said. "Hi, Charlie."

"Hello, Miss Granger. This must be…oh, I know this one…" Charlie was grinning at the little girl in Hermione's arms as he thought to recall the baby he'd been told of. "Ah!" he exclaimed. "Shakespeare! Just like Hermione. Juliet, isn't it?"

Hermione nodded with a wide smile.

"Yes!" Charlie hooted in success and tapped the side of his head. "Still up and running," he said. "And isn't she ever the gorgeous little thing."

Draco smirked.

"Chuck!" Hermione saw the blonde woman who had been working in the bakery the last time she had been there. She was standing behind the counter now, waving an apron which she then whipped to Charlie.

The boy caught it easily enough, twisting his arm so it wouldn't touch the ground.

"You're late!" the woman snapped. Charlie nodded as he hurried himself, swivelling around the counter and tying the apron in a knot behind his back, something he'd clearly had practice doing. "Get your arse back there and wash up. I've been dying back here!"

"Ah, pipe down," Charlie said with a teasing nudge at his co-worker. She glared. "Isn't _that_ busy," he told her.

"Wouldn't be saying that if you were here on time." The girl packed a box of macaroons for a customer, thanked them and then hit Charlie with the back of her hand. "The place was _packed_."

"Yeah, okay." Charlie grinned and disappeared in the back.

"Decided?" the woman asked, turning to Draco and Hermione who were next in line.

"Chocolate cheesecake, please," Hermione said, indicating the dessert in the case. "And one latte and one," she waited.

"Coffee. Black," Draco filled in.

She nodded. "Chuck! Latte and a black coffee!"

"Yes ma'am." Charlie came loping back, drying his hands and then saluting.

Hermione handed Juliet to Draco and paid before he could realize what she was doing.

He shook his head at her and she waved him away to take the one free table.

"For here then?" the girl asked, getting out a plate.

"Yes, please," Hermione affirmed.

"Take a seat," Charlie said. "I'll bring it over."

"If he doesn't spill it," the girl sang.

"You know, I've had enough from you today," Charlie said, smiling as he fixed the latte on a saucer.

"Of _me_?"

"Yeah, you," Charlie said. "Is this how our relationship's going to be? Verbally abusing and constant nagging?"

Hermione laughed as she took the seat across from Draco. She looked at the pair, the girl looked to be around her age, give or take a year or two, and she knew Charlie to be a younger sixteen years old. She couldn't help but wonder.

Charlie brought their drinks over and Hermione smiled, thanked him and then let her curiosity get the best of her. "You two are together?" she asked.

Charlie grinned. "Oi, Cassie, can you define this…frisson between us?"

"No, frisson, Chucky," Cassie said, boxing up a pre-ordered cake before handing the cheesecake over the counter to Charlie.

"Oh, you've got a thing for me," Charlie assured, "don't deny it." He placed the cheesecake between Draco and Hermione and then pulled a highchair from the side up to the table.

"Alright, Mister sixteen," Cassie said.

Charlie grinned at her.

Hermione placed Juliet in the highchair and took the discreetly warmed bottle from Draco, pulling the chair closer to her and alternating between offering Juliet her bottle and sipping from her own beverage.

The tables in the shop were filled but the queue had dwindled to two people. Charlie fixed the drinks in takeaway cups while the girl ran the register and boxed pastries. Hermione assisted Juliet so she could finish her bottle and then she and Draco dug into their cake.

"Draco," Hermione began, licking her lips and then carving neatly from the edge of the cake.

"Hm?"

"I was thinking..."

Draco put his fork down and swallowed his bite. "Alright," he said, meeting her eyes and steeling himself. "What is it?"

She laughed. "I was just…about a wedding. I'm not too keen on a long engagement at this point. Don't really see the point."

"Okay."

"And I never really wanted a big wedding."

"Fair enough."

"And, to a certain degree, I feel we're practically married as is and this is just officiating that, yes?" she asked.

"I'd say so."

"So, what would you say if I asked to get married…by the end of the month?"

"Alright."

"Really?" Her eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Hermione, I told you, we can get married whenever, wherever and however you want. So long as you're Hermione Malfoy by the end of the day."

"Malfoy," she said, trying it out. She made a face at him. "I think I'm rather attached to Granger."

Draco's expression changed instantly and he stopped. "Hermione Malfoy," he said.

"I don't know…"

"Hermione," he growled. "_My_ wife will have _my_ name."

She laughed. "What is it with men and their wives' last names?"

"Malfoy," he said firmly.

"Yes, yes," she said. "I'll take your name. But really, why does it matter so much?"

He shrugged. "Hermione Malfoy," he repeated.

She hid her smile with another forkful of sweet cake.

"Why?" Draco asked. "So soon, I mean. Thought most girls liked being engaged for a while."

"Why wait?" Hermione countered. "Besides, when have we ever been 'most' anything?"

Charlie came over then. "How is everything?" he asked. "Anything else I can get for you?"

"We're fine, thank you, Charlie," Hermione said.

"And getting married?" he asked. A sheepish smile overtook him. "Wasn't eavesdropping or anything."

Hermione beamed. "Yes, we are."

"When?"

Draco ran a hand over Juliet's silky blonde hair and gave her a wide grin. The little girl returned the expression brightly and bubbled a laugh.

"January," Hermione did some quick calendar calculations, "thirtieth. That's a Friday," she told Draco.

He nodded absent-mindedly.

"Need a cake?" Charlie asked with a grin, gesturing about the shop.

"Yes, actually," Hermione said. "That'd be great. Do you have an order form I can fill out?"

"Sure." Charlie dodged around the counter, grabbed the form and delivered back to their table. "Here you are."

"Thanks."

"So, how old is Juliet?" Charlie asked. "Seven, eight, months?"

"Very near eight," Draco replied. "Good guess."

"I've got a little sister," Charlie explained. "Going on two years old. You might have seen her around the building," he said. "Brown hair, sparkly green eyes, screams bloody murder at all hours of the morning?"

Hermione laughed. "I might've seen her once or twice."

"Chuck!" Cassie called. "Your turn to clean the cappuccino machine!"

"I'm on my break," Charlie told her.

Cassie glared. "Break my arse. You're almost a half hour late. There goes today's break _and_ tomorrow's."

Charlie slapped his palms against his aproned thighs and grinned apologetically. "Seems I've got work to do," he said. "Nice seeing you though and my utmost congratulations."

"Thank you," Hermione and Draco said in unison.

"And it was nice to see you, too," Hermione added.

"Happy marriage!" Charlie wished.

"Chuck!"

* * *

"January thirtieth‽"

"Yes."

"Hermione, that's in three weeks!"

Hermione nodded, not bothering to point out that technically it was a little less than that. Ginny looked like she wanted grab her friend by the shoulders and shake her to sense as it was.

"Why?" Ginny asked. She paused and then her face lit up. "Oh, my Merlin, you're pregnant, aren't you?"

Hermione laughed. "No, I'm not pregnant."

Ginny shook her head. "Then why? You can't possibly be so delusional to think that you can pull together a proper wedding by then."

Hermione opened the box of books that had been delivered to the shop earlier that morning, taking in the smell of the freshly printed paper and bindings with a sigh and a smile. She began to sort through them, following her list to make sure they were just what she ordered and then separating them into genres.

"I don't want a big wedding," Hermione said. "Just close family and friends. I wouldn't think to invite most of my family anyway. I hardly see them as is and I think we'll have a wizard officiant."

"Hermione."

"If you're here," Hermione said, "you can make yourself useful and help me shelve these please."

Ginny took a stack of books that Hermione had set aside and went where she indicated.

"Hermione," Ginny called, "you only plan to get married once, don't you? Don't you want to make it special?"

"It will be special," Hermione argued. She joined Ginny with a tall stack of books herself and began to alphabetize them on the shelf. "I'm marrying Draco."

"But Hermione," Ginny whinged. "It's a _wedding_. You can't just…do it and get it over with."

Hermione huffed. "I am marrying him, that's all that matters to me. All I want is my friends, my parents, and _your_ family to be there, a wedding dress that makes me feel like a bride and a husband who can take it off of me later that evening."

Ginny laughed, looking at Hermione and her impish grin with slight awe. "Well, that doesn't sound so bad," she commented.

Hermione agreed. "And I still want you and Luna to be my bridesmaids. And Draco knows Harry and Ron will be groomsmen. If we get our dresses within the next two weeks then they can be altered and fitted in plenty of time." Given they took the dresses to a wizard or witch to be tailored. "I don't want the fuss and stress of planning a big, extravagant wedding."

Ginny sighed. "But weddings are so magical."

Hermione gave her an obvious look. "I can honestly say that my life has been plenty magical as is."

"Hermione."

"Ginny."

Their eyes narrowed at each other until neither could help themselves and they laughed before they returned to shelving books. It was quiet for a while and then the younger girl let out a soft huff.

"Well, if you're sure it's what you want..." She still looked displeased by this and Hermione smiled slightly at her.

"That one goes over there." Hermione pointed at the book and then across to another stack. "Third row."

Ginny rolled her eyes but plucked the book from the shelf and took it to where Hermione had instructed without protest. "So that's it?" Ginny said finally. "You're serious about this?"

"Yes, Ginny." Hermione pulled her hair back into a bun and out of her face. "Why does this bother you so much?"

The redhead frowned as she rejoined her friend. "I wanted to play wedding planner," she said. "Work's been so boring lately and Harry's got a lot going on at work. James is slowly beginning to try my patience. I thought it would be fun. You were a lot of help in planning our wedding."

Hermione smiled fondly at the memory of her best friends' wedding. "Well, I'd appreciate it if you'd come dress shopping with me next week," Hermione told her. "And there will definitely be some planning involved. It would be great to have some help."

Ginny hugged Hermione tightly. "Give me a list," she said. "I'll take care of everything."

Hermione laughed. "Thanks."

She had no idea how serious her friend was. One list, numerous floos, two shopping trips and thirty-four invitations later her wedding was planned. She was in utter disbelief at how fast the weeks had passed. She was getting married and she couldn't have been happier.

In the time that Ginny, with small amounts of help and input from Hermione, took to plan the small wedding, Hermione and Draco had done a bit of real estate research. Or rather, every couple of days Draco would find Hermione as she closed the shop and then take her to a property or two to get her opinion before they were due to have dinner. She had deemed two of them high contenders but had yet to come to a decision as one required a great deal of fixing up, though its location was far more preferable being just outside a muggle community with a few wizarding families in relative proximity.

Draco hadn't gotten cold feet yet.

Hermione had been waiting for the moment where he'd question it all and ask her if she was sure about going through with it. It never came. In fact, it seemed that they were the least worried people scheduled to be in attendance at the event. Everyone was happy for them, there was no doubt about that, but (with the one possible exception of Blaise) they could tell that others were trying to subtly hint that things had progressed rather quickly.

Draco supposed he couldn't blame them if one stopped to think about the relationship between him and Hermione numerically. The number of years they had known each other. The number of years they hated each other. The number of months they'd had together after reconnecting. The number of months they had officially dated. And the number of weeks they had been engaged. Looking at it that way, perhaps it didn't add up to much in their point of view. That was fair enough.

When he looked at it however, the equation was much different. Starting with the number of years in which she had seen the worst of him and he had seen the true strength in her, at the time, five foot character, adding to that the number of years in which he had grown up a bit, and then the months in which she had been there for him, regardless his state and past. Plus the months in which he had tried to be there for her as well and when she helped him to become a better him and when he knew he had fallen irreversibly in love with her. The time he spent being able to show her how much he loved her was still a little surreal to him, yet incredibly familiar and natural at the same time. It was as if he had known how to be with her all along and the fluidity of it amazed him to the point where he sometimes wondered how he didn't realize it sooner.

So, yes, it may have been more conventional for them to have a few years on record, but he thought their own timeline balanced out nicely just the same, if not better. He didn't need months or years with her to know. All he needed was her.

Loving Hermione Granger was very possibly the easiest thing he could ever fathom himself to do. And he knew that it was what he wanted to do for the rest of his years, the past ones be damned.

Which was why he could say, without a doubt, that Hermione Granger would not be Hermione _Granger_ much longer.

Ginny grinned as she took her place next to Luna, who held Juliet. The little girl was outfitted in the most adorable pink satin dress, quiet and well behaved as Luna spoke nonsense to her in a light voice and fixed her straightened her dress.

The music began and Ginny could hardly contain herself. Draco's eyes were trained on the doors as he heard the youngest Weasley whisper, "You'll absolutely die when you see her."

And he swore to Merlin, he damn nearly did.

* * *

**A/N: Ohmygoodness. First things first, I have the BEST readers in the world, biased as that opinion may be. I had no idea that so many of you actually took the time to read the author's notes but let me say that I am so glad you do. Your support was overwhelmingly awesome and very much appreciated. I try to refrain from doing things like this but I feel it necessary to acknowledge all of those who were so kind. Below is a list of those I'd like to thank:**

**PercabethLover1477, vmontes743, ANEwrites, TheShiningStar, ariamonae, tripleloopx, Hunter's Heir (yes, it was a confidence boost), Blonde K, dracomakesmyheadspin (he makes my head spin as well), lakelady8425, Honoria Granger, bloodybrill (have I mentioned how much I enjoy your penname?), LilyNightShade, KraZiiePyrozHavemoreFun, Hanable-13, cnguyen7899, dramionelover1996, Tay Lupin, happytoreaddmhg, shimmeringbubbles and those guest reviewers who should most definitely consider accounts.**

**Thank you all so much. For your suggestions, encouragement, compliments, and consideration. Those who mentioned that you don't typically read dramione may or may not have made my head a little bigger.**

**This story is not done. I have been looking forward to an epilogue way too long to stop now I think. That being said, if any of you have anything you'd like to see (Charlie made an appearance for a certain reader this time around) I'd be more than happy to at least take it in to consideration. **

**You wonderful, wonderful readers, you.**

**~Scarlett**


	37. Chapter 37

**UPDATE: A follow-up short story of Juliet/James S. P. has been posted and I'm so excited to hear from all of you James/Juliet fans. It's called "Lettie" and I hope you'll all check it out. Thanks!**

* * *

Draco felt as though the air had been sucked from his lungs. She was unequivocally striking and she was heading straight towards him, smiling coyly as her eyes flicked from his to the floor and back.

He would have liked to be able to describe her in every detail, talk about the cut of her dress, and the way her hair was pinned up, but the truth was that he couldn't focus on any one part of her long enough to pick up on such things. What he could tell you was that she glowed as she came down the aisle and that it wasn't until he felt Harry's hand on his shoulder, missing the looks Ron and Blaise were giving him, that he realized he had made to move forward to meet her. His embarrassment may have tinged him the slightest bit pink but he was still grinning like a fool.

It was forever before Hermione was finally in front of him. Her father gave Draco an acknowledging nod as he relinquished his only daughter. She kissed her dad's cheek and joined Draco in front of the minister. She smiled up at him and reached to straighten his bowtie. "Hi," she whispered. "You're looking rather dapper."

He took her hand. "You're…stunningly beautiful."

She blushed, thanked him and then turned to the minister to begin.

It was a bit of a blur for her really. They went through the proceedings with minimal blunders.

When it was time for the vows Hermione accepted a small square of parchment from Ginny and then pulled out her wand. There was a chorus of chuckles from their small audience upon her enlarging it to be full sized.

"Here we go," Draco said.

She scowled at him. "I'm going to make you cry," she promised. He'd never admit it, but she did. When she squared her shoulders and began to read he held his composure incredibly well. It was when she stopped and made eye contact with him, her own eyes shining that he found himself blinking to see her clearly. It had him caught between wanting to clap his hand over her mouth to stop her and gathering her in his arms.

"And while we haven't had the easiest time with each other all along, I wouldn't change a thing so long as we'd still end up here. Those years are long forgiven so long as I have your forever." Hermione took a deep breath and leaned forward to add. "And I'll be yours, if you'll be mine." She held out a hand and Harry placed a wedding band in the centre of her palm. She took Draco's left hand in hers. "With this ring I thee wed," she promised and then she slid the ring onto his finger.

Draco turned to Blaise and Blaise searched his robe pockets. Coming up with nothing, he cursed.

"Blaise," Draco said warningly.

"I left the parchment in the back room," Blaise confessed.

Hermione laughed good-naturedly and shook her head.

"Damn you," Draco said, turning to face his best man. "I gave you one job."

"Eh, don't get your knickers in a twist," Blaise said. "I'll go fetch it."

"Don't bother," Draco said. "Not like it was much good anyway."

Blaise shrugged and stepped back into place.

Draco closed his eyes and then took Hermione's hands in his. He let out a slow breath. "I'm sorry Blaise is an imbecile," he ignored his mate's indignation. "I think it went something like this: I promise to take care of you. To make you happy. To respect you. To never intentionally hurt you... I vow to be honest, to try to be patient, and to love you far longer than forever." He paused. "I had a list of reasons I love you," he informed her. "Among others, there was your intelligence, your compassion, your selflessness and your strength. But, selfish as I am, what I love most about you is the fact that you make me a better person."

She opened her mouth to contradict him and he chuckled.

"Right," he cut in, "you make me want to be a better person. Indirectly and vastly improving me."

She accepted this with a nod.

Draco was handed a ring. "I never want to live another day without you being mine and I, yours. I love you," he said, taking Hermione's left hand. "With this ring I thee wed."

The minister pronounced them husband and wife and they sealed their bond with a kiss, mouths smiling as they met.

"Man," Ron said, "who knew he could be so sappy?"

"Shut it," Hermione and Draco ordered together.

They instructed everyone to floo to Blaise's home for the reception as he had offered to hold lunch for everyone there. Hermione and Draco headed up the aisle, husband and wife for the first time, and exited the well decorated, all thanks to Ginny, ministry room and out to the lobby. Everyone headed to the floos while Draco pulled Hermione aside.

He kissed her, bending and wrapping his arms firmly about her waist to pull her up to him. She sighed and returned his unspoken sentiments.

Grinning as he pulled away, he looked around. "Ginny has Juliet?" he asked.

"Luna," Hermione corrected.

He never thought he'd ever trust his child with Looney Lovegood. For a brief moment he wondered if he really did until Hermione shook her head at him and promised Juliet was fine.

"Hey," Draco said, "before we leave then, I've got your first surprise."

"Surprise?" she asked curiously as Draco produced a document from his robes.

"Mhm," he said, unfolding the parchment.

"And there's more than one?"

"Two," he said. "But the second won't be revealed until later. Here." He handed the page to her and she read it inquisitively. He watched her reaction carefully as she realized what it was.

Her face broke out in a wide smile. "Are...really?"

He nodded. "You don't have to, of course. I just thought, perhaps..."

She brushed a tear away. "Do you have a quill?"

He conjured both that and an ink well for her and offered them to her.

"You're..." she looked at him for confirmation once again and he nodded.

"Yes."

She signed the document and handed it back to him.

He read the page with a satisfied smile, the second half of her signature catching his eye. Hermione Malfoy had officially adopted his daughter.

* * *

"Draco? Hermione?"

The two looked up from the baby between them to see Daphne and Ron. Most of the guests were either mingling or dancing at this point and Hermione and Draco had just decided to sit down and relax for a few minutes while everyone else was preoccupied. Hermione looked at Ron and Daphne with slight apprehension; clearly they had something to say.

Ron put a hand on Daphne's back encouragingly and she nodded. "I'm sorry. This is probably the worst time to bring this up but it's been eating at me and I just had to…clear my conscience."

"What's wrong?" Hermione prompted.

"That article I'm sure you saw, a few weeks ago. About you and Draco."

Hermione turned to Draco, seeing him noticeably tense beside her. "_You_ wrote it?" Draco demanded harshly.

Daphne flinched. "I…I didn't write it. But I am responsible."

"You didn't know," Ron defended.

"What happened?" Hermione asked, placing her hand on Draco's and calmly awaiting a proper explanation.

"One of the other journalists knew that I was dating Ron and that I knew both of you. They got the picture of you and Draco leaving that shop and saw Hermione's ring and they were looking for a story." Daphne pulled her hair from in front of her face. "I didn't know they were writing about it. I thought they were just making conversation when they asked about you. I'm really sorry."

"What right did you have—" Draco began angrily.

Hermione shot him quieting look while Ron looked ready to argue right back. Daphne was prepared to take what was coming.

"It's okay," Hermione said simply. Draco stared at her. "Draco, are you really set to let your temper get the better of you right now? We just got married. Who cares what a stupid article said? Besides, Daphne didn't intend for the article to be written and you know that she really isn't to blame."

"Draco has a right to be angry," Daphne said.

"There isn't a need for it," Hermione said. "Draco?"

"It isn't your fault," Draco conceded. "Though you shouldn't be discussing other people's lives."

"I was only saying good things," Daphne said. "I don't believe how twisted what came out of it was."

Hermione shook her head. "Quite the talent some people have, isn't it?"

"Am I forgiven?" Daphne asked tentatively.

Hermione turned to her husband. "You're forgiven," Draco allowed.

"Thank you for saying something," Hermione said. "You two should go enjoy the rest of the party."

Daphne smiled and pulled Ron back to the dancing couples.

"You handled that well," Hermione commended, watching as Draco scooped Juliet up and swayed in time to the band's music with her.

"Haven't got it in me to be that angry today," he said absentmindedly.

Hermione laughed.

"Hey," Draco said, "when are we going to get out of here?"

"Whenever you'd like," Hermione told him. "I thought we might wait another hour or so."

"Alright," he agreed. "Care to dance then?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "And what about the little one?" she asked.

"Oh, she loves to dance," Draco said. "Don't you, Julie? You're just dying to get out on the dance floor with Mum and Dad. Of course you are."

"Draco."

"Oh, don't worry," he assured, pulling her up with him and leading them out to everyone else, "I'm a good enough dancer for all three of us."

* * *

"Where are we going?"

"You asked that five minutes ago."

"And you didn't _answer me_ five minutes ago." Hermione crossed her arms and stopped walking, tugging Draco back to her sharply.

They had left Blaise's home nearly half an hour ago. The only stop they had made was to say goodnight and goodbye to Juliet and Estelle. Hermione hadn't known they were going anywhere until Draco had shrunk two bags and slipped them into his pocket, telling her it was time to go.

"We're almost there."

"Where _is_ there?" Hermione insisted.

He tried to pull her along but she stubbornly refused to move, dragging her heels the few feet he managed to move her. It wasn't easy. Especially as she was still in her heels and feared tripping over her gown.

She began to rant. "First you whisk me away, _blindfold _me, apparate me to Merlin knows where, and you still continue to…" she struggled against his pull, "steer me…" suddenly she felt him behind her, now pushing her along, "to…oh for goodness' sake would you just _tell me_ where we are—ah! Draco!"

Her feet swept off the ground, Draco got a good hold on her and advised her to wrap her arms around his neck. She did so, telling him it was his own darn fault for blindfolding her when she nearly hit him in the face. He kissed her cheek in response and then started up the steps. The trouble came when he had to open the door.

"Hold tight," he said. When he felt her arms tauten around him, he used the hand supporting her back to open the door and walk them both over the threshold. Her shoulder bumped the doorframe and she yelped. He apologized and then kicked the door shut behind them and set her on her feet.

He pulled her close, winding an arm about her waist and holding her tight against him. He tugged free the knot of the blindfold and kissed her frown, coaxing it away and gently working the pins out of her hair. She kissed him back.

"Draco," she murmured as he slipped out of his jacket.

"Hm?"

"This is all very nice," she said, running her hands through his hair while his lips found her collarbone. "But _where are we_?"

He chuckled and pulled away from her. "Italy," he replied, and then he continued his attentions.

"Italy?" she asked.

"Mhm," he hummed against her. "Surprise."

"Where in Italy?"

"Genoa." His mouth claimed hers again. She stumbled a bit in her heels as he walked her backwards to be pressed between him and the door.

"Genoa?" she repeated as he broke away for air.

"Summer house, remember?" he said.

"Oh. Whereabouts—"

Draco sighed as his forehead dropped to her shoulder. "I will show you around later," he promised slowly. "Now, please shut up."

She glared at him playfully.

"If you're good, I'll show you the bedroom," he offered.

She laughed. "Alright, Mr. Malfoy."

"Come along, Mrs. Malfoy."

* * *

Their honeymoon lasted five days. Saturday was spent mostly indoors, the weather outside rather cool. Neither Draco nor Hermione minded in the least, happy to stay inside. Sunday, Hermione forced Draco out to the beach with her. It was still a little chilly but nice enough, the scenery gorgeous and wrapping up with a blanket and each other to watch the sunset was wonderfully warming. Monday passed in the same way Tuesday did, the morning spent as a lazy morning indoors, the afternoon enjoying the landscape and the evening out to dinner in the village. Wednesday, their last official 'honeymoon day' as Draco put it, the newlyweds let the time pass by lounging in bed. Hermione took the time to do some light reading, sipping tea while Draco held her, laughing softly when he fell asleep with his arms around her. He woke up to lunch, which they shared contently, before he pulled her back into bed to have his wicked way with her.

It was on the Thursday that Estelle and Juliet were brought to the house on the beach via floo and the four spent the day touring about the beautiful city, shopping, picnicking and eating gelato. Returning home that night, well, saying it was a surprise was a bit of an understatement.

"Draco," Hermione said, looking around in awe. "Did you...when..."

"You were the one who said it only needed a bit of fixing up," Draco reminded. "I hired a few architectural wizards. Ron and Harry helped move you out of your flat. If there's anything you don't like we can change it."

Estelle was watching the young couple with a fond smile as Hermione walked around the new house. "This could have gone horribly wrong," she commented.

Draco smirked. "So I've been told."

"I love it," she said. "I love it to bits. This is...absolutely perfect, Draco. Our home."

"Ours," he agreed.

Estelle nodded, a knowing smile lighting her features. "You two," she said, "are going to be great."

And were they ever.

* * *

"Daddy, tell it again."

"Sweetheart, I just told the story," Draco said. "It's late, get some sleep."

"I'm not sleepy yet," Juliet complained through a yawn. He chuckled. "I," she settled under her covers, "I need to hear it again."

Draco shook his head, tucking the comforter up under her chin. "Julie, it's bedtime. No more storytelling. Close those sad eyes."

"Just one more time," Juliet begged. "Please? I promise I'll go to sleep right after. Cross my heart," she wriggled a hand from her side and drew an X on the covers above her chest. She then scrambled up to kiss his cheek and offer another 'please'.

His resolve with the little girl when she had truly done no wrong was weak at best. "Alright," he gave in. "Move over, little lady."

Juliet grinned up at him and rolled over towards the wall her bed was set against, moving stuffed animals out of her way. She waited for her dad to join her and then scooted her way back over. She lifted his arm, which he held up obligingly, and snuggled against his side. His arm came back around her.

"Okay," she declared, "I'm ready."

"Are you?" Draco asked in amusement.

"Mhm."

"Once upon a..." Draco stopped. "Julie, I can't remember it," he said.

Juliet glared at him. "Once upon a time," she said. "Once upon a time there was a prince of a green kingdom."

Draco had told this story plenty of times before. He knew it inside and out; he could tell it in his sleep. Over the years it had been altered and embellished by the audience. The young man became a prince, the young lady a princess. They ruled kingdom's of according colours. On some days the princess arrived to the prince's aid in a pink bubble, others on a star, occasionally she flew in as an angel and some nights she needed no explanation at all. A child's imagination was quite the curious thing Draco had realized.

Draco smiled. "Oh, that's right," he laughed, "okay. So, once upon a time there was a prince of a green kingdom. He was," he watched as his daughter mouthed the words along with him, "mean and rich and spoiled. And near the prince's kingdom, there was a princess who ruled over a red kingdom. She was," Juliet smiled and said it with him, "kind and smart and...frizzy-haired."

"Oi!" Juliet exclaimed. "She's not frizzy-haired! She is loy...loyal."

Draco laughed. "Did you just say 'oi'?" he asked.

Her eyes widened in fear. "James says it!" she defended. "It isn't a bad word, is it?"

He shook his head. "No, Julie, not bad. Unbecoming of a young lady, though."

"I'm not a lady." Juliet yawned. "I'm four."

"No more 'ois'," he said.

"No more 'ois'," she repeated, looking down. A moment later she was prodding his side and asking him to continue the story.

"Right," he said. "The prince had a terrible father who led him to do evil things and filled his mind with mean thoughts. He hated the princess and the red kingdom. The two kingdoms could never get along.

"Soon, the kingdoms went to war against each other and the princess and her friends led the good side while the prince followed his father to the evil side. They did horrible things and the prince hated it. He realized that he wanted no part in helping the bad people and that he didn't have to any longer because-"

"Because everyone always has a choice," Juliet said.

"Exactly," Draco agreed. "And so he left."

Draco watched the young girl's eyelids droop with drowsiness, her long curling lashes coming to rest on her cheeks as he went on. "Now, even though the prince was mean, he still had friends. And when the war was over and the good side won, everyone was happy. The prince became kinder, but he did not talk to many people and he hadn't seen the princess in years."

He swept his daughter's long, blonde hair off of her shoulders and neck. "Then his friend, one of the prince's only friends, passed away. But before she left him, she gave him a gift. He left him with a beautiful little girl."

Juliet was sound asleep.

"And he called her Juliet," Draco finished. "But the prince didn't know how to take care of a baby and he was so sad that he had lost his friend. And that was when the princess arrived, just in time to help the prince, and Merlin was she ever an angel."

"And they fell in love and lived happily ever after?"

Draco turned at the whispered suggestion from the door, smiling at the aforementioned angel. His angel. She was clad in her plaid, purple pyjama pants and a white t-shirt, her hair crazily curly as always.

"Yeah, they did," he agreed softly. "Help me out?" He nodded at the four year old asleep against him and Hermione hurried over to him with a laugh and slipped a pillow under the girl's head while her father gently lifted himself from her bed.

"How's Caelum?" Draco asked.

"Asleep," Hermione replied. "His fever's still high but it's going down. I gave him a few drops of the potion to get him through the night. I'll check on him in a couple of hours."

Draco nodded and watched as Hermione bent, kissed Juliet's forehead and then quietly motioned him towards the door. "Poor guy," he said, referring to his son.

Hermione sighed as her husband wrapped his arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. "He'll be alright," she said.

"I told Blaise I won't be going to the meeting tomorrow," Draco said. "Don't worry about taking the day off." He led them into their bedroom and set about getting ready for bed.

"I'll be home early if you can move the meeting," Hermione told him, disappearing into the loo to brush her teeth and plait her hair. "Cory's closing up. I just can't expect Estelle to handle both an energized four year old and an ill toddler."

"No worries," Draco assured. "Blaise can handle a meeting on his own."

Hermione left the ensuite and turned down the bedding, crawling into bed and settling comfortably. Draco joined her a few moments later.

Facing her, he lifted himself to his elbow and leaned over to kiss her soundly. "I'll check on Caelum."

"Okay. Wake me up if his fever gets worse."

"Will do."

"I love you."

"I love you, too. Goodnight, lovely."

"Goodnight."

* * *

"Well, James has your eyes."

"Yes, but he's got everything else from Harry. And Albus is the spitting image of his dad," Ginny said.

"Lily looks just like you though, you can't possibly refute that."

"Yes, that I can't argue, my darling daughter looks just like me."

"She'll be a heartbreaker," Hermione said, smiling.

"Yes, but it will be you and Draco worrying about those things far before me." Ginny kicked off her shoes. "Juliet looks just like her dad. But prettier. Blonde hair, grey eyes, astounding intelligence? Someone's going to have to chase all the boys away." Ginny paused. "You and Draco are even though."

"Pardon?"

"Well, Juliet has all of Draco's features and Caelum looks just like you with your hair, eyes, nose and smile."

"With his father's bone structure," Hermione added.

"So he'll be tall with a defined jaw line." Ginny laughed. "That's hardly a bad thing, isn't it?"

Hermione sat on the deck stairs in her backyard, watching the children run about the yard with a smile. Ginny sat beside her, the Potters having joined them for the afternoon at Caelum's request. He and Albus, Harry and Ginny's second child, both three years old now, we're the best of friends. If the two went any more than a couple of days apart from each other they were begging for a play date and neither Draco and Hermione nor Harry and Ginny would hear the end of it until they got one.

At the moment, Harry was inside changing the youngest of his three children, Lily, who was fast-approaching a year old and Draco was running around with Caelum and Albus.

The two boys were zooming in circles, pretending they were riding broomsticks and making whooshing noises as they went. Draco had joined in their game of make believe and was swiftly picking each of them up in turn and spinning them around, adding to their sound effects and laughter.

Ginny smirked. "It never fails to entertain me to see your husband play with the kids," she commented. "It's amusing and endearing and ridiculous all at once."

Hermione laughed. "Please," she said, "sometimes I feel as though it isn't Draco playing with the kids but rather the kids playing with Draco."

Harry returned then, a content Lily in his arms along with a levitating tray of lemonade behind him. Ginny took her daughter and Hermione gathered the white skirt of her sundress under her as she made room for Harry. She gladly accepted the glass of lemonade her offered.

"Helped myself to your fridge," Harry explained. "Hope you don't mind."

Hermione shook her head. "Not at all. It's boiling out here." A slight exaggeration, but it was hot. They were in the peak of summer, nearing the very last days of July, and while the sunny weather was appreciated, she was about as tan as she was going to get. If it wasn't for the cooling charms she'd placed on everyone, the heat would be unbearable.

"Caelum! Albus!" she called. "Lemonade!"

The boys came scrambling over and while Ginny poured Albus a glass of the refreshing beverage, Caelum politely asked for a sip of his mum's, which Hermione granted. The curly-haired boy promptly finished the glass and then took off again. Albus chased after him.

Draco lay down on the grass at Hermione's feet and folded his hands over his abdomen. "Hi," he said, shooting her a worn-out grin.

"Hi," Hermione returned.

Suddenly Caelum and Albus returned. Giggling, Albus tapped his father's knee while Caelum squatted and quickly bopped Draco's forehead. "Tag!" they shouted. "Tag, you're it! Now you have to catch us!"

They got a running head start as their respective fathers 'hurried' to their feet before going after them.

Ginny pulled her hair back from Lily's grasp and fished around in her bag for the baby's sun hat.

"How lucky are we?" Hermione asked. Across the yard, Draco had swept Caelum in a bear hug.

"Very," Ginny replied.

"I got you!" Draco cried triumphantly.

Caelum giggled and shook his head. "No! Never! I got _you_!" His small arms hugged his father's bicep.

"Hey, we're thinking we'll celebrate James' birthday at my parents' house Saturday," Ginny said. "Do you think you guys can make it?"

"Of course," Hermione told her. "The date almost slipped my mind. Is there anything James wants for his birthday?"

"Oh, anything you get him will be fine, Hermione," Ginny assured. "Honestly."

Hermione ran a hand through her hair. "I haven't a clue what to get a seven year old boy," she said.

"He enjoyed the comic books you gave him last year. It would certainly balance out the havoc I know George's presents will wreak upon my house." She rolled her eyes.

The house behind them abruptly came to life. "James! James, give that back! That's _mine_!"

Ginny closed her eyes, sighed and faced skyward. "Oh Merlin, what has my son done now?"

Hermione laughed quietly. "Here we go," she sang.

"James Sirius Potter, you'll give me my book back right this second if you know what's good for you!" There was an infuriated screech before Juliet came tearing out the back doors and storming up to her mum.

Distantly, both Hermione and Ginny could hear, "Wait! Don't go out _there_," from inside the house.

"Mum, James took my book!" Juliet complained, arms folded petulantly. "Took it right from hands and now he won't give it back!"

Hermione turned around on the steps to face her daughter. "Darling, you know he only does this to bother you. Why don't sit out here with us for a while?" she suggested. "He'll get bored and you'll get your book back."

"I want to finish my book," Juliet said, her voice softening from her angry outbursts to sad discontent. "I was ten pages from the end."

Ginny twisted to face the house, one hand shielding her eyes from the sun and the other holding Lily. "James," she called warningly.

A boy emerged from the house, tall for his age, dark hair sticking up in odd directions, brown eyes looking remorseful.

"Come here," Ginny ordered, pointing at the spot just in front of her. James did as she said obediently, producing _Alice in Wonderland_ from behind his back and handing it over to an expectant Juliet. "What do you have to say for yourself?" his mother prompted.

"Sorry," James mumbled.

Juliet frowned at him, her grey eyes saying that she didn't think he meant it, but she accepted it nonetheless. She sat herself carefully in her dress on Hermione's lap and opened her book.

"Not my fault though," James defended. "All she ever does is read!" Hermione smiled. "It's boring."

"James," Ginny admonished, though Hermione could hear the amusement laced through her voice.

"I like reading," Juliet said primly.

"Lettie, can't we play something fun for a while?" James whinged.

"Shh," Juliet hushed, becoming once again absorbed in her novel. "And don't call me Lettie."

Hermione laughed and set about plaiting back the six-year-old's hair, seeing how it fell forward in her eyes as she read. "She's ten pages from the end, James," Hermione told him, "I'm sure she'll want to play soon."

"Go join your brother," Ginny suggested. "He and Caelum seem to be having a great time." She pointed out the children still motoring around and poured James a glass of lemonade.

Hermione produced a ribbon and tied off Juliet's braid. "Thanks, Mum."

James drank the lemonade quickly, wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, thanked his mum, and then took her advice and joined Harry, Draco and the other kids.

Hermione looked at her daughter. "Julie, James is only looking for someone to play with."

"He plays silly games," Juliet said.

Draco came loping over, getting himself some lemonade. He looked at the expressions on both his wife's and daughter's face before asking, "What's the matter?"

"Oh, nothing," Hermione dismissed. "Julie was just saying that she'd rather read than play with James."

Draco sat with his drink and tapped Juliet's knee. "You're just like your mum," he said. "Always reading."

Juliet marked her page with her finger and closed the book. She sighed. "Well, James only ever wants to play aurors," she said.

"That sounds like fun," Hermione commented.

The little girl heaved an even bigger sigh. "It _is_ fun," she admitted. "But _last _time we played aurors we-" She stopped herself, her eyes widening, and she opened her book back up quickly. The pages were very interesting once more.

"What?" Draco asked. "Julie, what happened?"

"Nothing," she said innocently, nose pressed into the pages of the novel.

Draco hooked a finger over the top of the book and pulled it down slowly. "Juliet, what did you do?" he asked deliberately.

"We didn't break anything," Juliet rushed.

"It was you two who broke the fruit bowl, wasn't it?" Hermione asked.

Juliet had the grace to look sheepish. "I'm sorry," she said.

Draco shrugged. "It was an ugly thing anyway."

"Draco!" Hermione exclaimed. Juliet was hiding a smile.

"What?" Draco asked. "It was, too! I don't know what would possess anyone to think that a good presen-"

"Draco," Hermione said, "that isn't the point. Juliet, what have we said about lying?"

"Lying is wrong," Juliet recited. "But really, I didn't lie. We just kept it a secret. And secrets are okay, aren't they?"

"Not like that," Hermione said.

"But it wasn't even a secret either then," Juliet went on. "Because if someone asked, we would have said we did it. But no one asked."

Draco looked towards Caelum, Albus and James to keep his smirk to himself.

"We thought Caelum did it by accident," Hermione said.

"But you didn't get mad at Caelum for not saying anything," Juliet pointed out.

Hermione gave Draco a look at his seeming disinterest. "Caelum wasn't the culprit though," Draco said.

"What's a culprut?"

"Culprit. The person responsible. The one who did it," Hermione defined in simple terms.

"Oh. But you _thought _Caelum was the culprit," Juliet stated. "And you weren't mad."

Hermione shook her head at Draco's mistake. "Juliet, your brother is three years old. You are six. You should know better."

Juliet nodded solemnly. "Okay. I'm sorry." It was time to change the subject. "That's why I don't like to play aurors anymore though," she said. "Cos I didn't want to break any more stuff." She really was a sharp little girl.

Draco laughed. "Fair enough, then."

"Well, what do you like to play?" Hermione asked. "If not aurors?"

"School," Juliet chirped. "But James doesn't listen very well." Ginny, Hermione and Draco all laughed at this, Lily joining in as well. Juliet's eyebrows drew together in confusion. She couldn't understand what was quite so funny.

"Oh, sweetie, I know," was all Ginny said.

"I also like to play house," Juliet added. "Oh! And wedding!"

Hermione and Ginny shared an amused smile.

Draco was far more serious. "No way in hell."

"Daddy!" Juliet exclaimed, book forgotten at her side. "You cursed! Mummy, Daddy cursed! He said-"

"Draco," Hermione glared at her husband. "Daddy didn't mean to curse," she said. "What he meant to say was..."

"No way," Draco amended. "Just plain no way. I apologize for my language."

Juliet laughed, said it was okay and then hopped off of her mum's lap and bounded away. "Hey James! My daddy just said a bad word! He said-"

Draco looked at Hermione and Ginny apologetically. "Sort of slipped out," he explained.

"Uh-huh," they chorused.

"They're-she's-she's not marrying anyone," Draco said.

Hermione leaned forward and kissed him sweetly. "Oh Draco, surely by now you realize that anything is a possibility."

* * *

**A/N: Well! I'm going to call that the official end! Thank you all so much for reading! Please, pretty please review as I plan to reply to all of them, my last chance to say a proper thanks to all of you lovely people. **

**I hope you enjoyed this and that I ended it somewhat satisfactorily. I'm so sorry for the unstable ride I've taken you all on and I hope you know how much I appreciate you sticking with me. **

**This story is finished thanks to all of you. **

**Anyways (and fondly),**

**Scarlett**

**UPDATE: A follow-up short story of Juliet/James S. P. has been posted and I'm so excited to hear from all of you James/Juliet fans. It's called "Lettie" and I hope you'll all check it out. Thanks!**


	38. If you haven't already

READ ME PLEASE A/N: okay, this is just a filler to avoid breaking rules about posting author's notes on their own. If you don't want to read this bit feel free to just scroll down to the end and read the author's note there. Thanks!

"Good morning, gorgeous."

Hermione hummed as she rolled over, her legs entangling with his as she leaned over and kissed his cheek. "Hey there, handsome," she returned. She got off of him and tried to get out of bed. His arm wrapping about her waist and pulling her back against him made this a difficult task.

"Draco, come on, Caelum is probably—" As he kissed her shoulder and made his way up to her neck there was a quick succession of knocks at the door. "Just outside," Hermione finished. "You can come in, darling."

Caelum came bounding into the room and leaped onto the bed, crawling his way in between his parents. "Good morning!" he exclaimed.

"Good morning." Hermione laughed, disentangling herself from her husband to allow Caelum enough space to snuggle between them. She kissed the boy's forehead. "How was your sleep?" she asked routinely.

"My sleep was good," Caelum replied. "I dreamt you and Daddy gave me a puppy."

"We did?" Hermione asked.

Caelum nodded ardently. "Uh-huh. He was _this_ big," he showed them the size of his little brother with hands spread about a foot apart. "He was so cute," he went on. "And lots of fun."

"Was he?" Draco asked.

"Yep." Caelum looked up at his mum under his curling brown lashes. "It'd be nice to have a puppy," he hinted.

Draco and Hermione shared a look. "Cae, you hungry for breakfast?" Draco asked.

"I'm _starving_," Caelum said.

Hermione ran her fingers through his hair and smiled. "Alright, what do you feel like? Pancakes?" she asked.

"With chocolate chips?" Caelum asked hopefully.

"With chocolate chips," Hermione agreed. "Go brush your teeth and get dressed. I'll see you downstairs."

Caelum nodded and left obediently, humming to himself.

Draco reached back to the nightstand and grabbed his wand, flicking it at the door and shutting it soundly.

He then tackled his wife to the bed and kissed her nose, her cheek, her neck, her collar bone. His hands danced up and down her sides, tickling her. She laughed but allowed him his teasing a moment, quite enjoying herself.

"I need to go make pancakes," she said between his light kisses.

"We can go out for pancakes."

"Draco, no, I'm perfectly capable of making breakfast," Hermione protested.

"Alright." He got out of bed and kicked her slippers over to her. She stepped into them and put on her dressing gown. She brushed her teeth and washed her face and then went downstairs to see Estelle fixing tea and Caelum sitting at the table with a glass of milk.

She got out a bowl, flour, milk, butter and baking powder. "Pancakes are going to be a little while, Cae," Hermione said. "Do you want to get the chocolate chips out?"

Caelum nodded and opened the pantry, stretching up on his toes to reach the chocolate. "Here you go."

"Thank you."

Hermione turned on the wireless and sang along to the first few lines of the song that played.

"Mummy, how long until Julie comes home?" Caelum inquired.

"Still a month, darling," Hermione told him. "You miss her?"

"Not just me," Caelum said quickly. "Stelly misses her."

Estelle smiled. "I certainly do."

"Four weeks," Hermione reminded, "then she and James will be back for summer holiday."

Draco came into the kitchen and set about heating a pan on the stove.

Hermione began whisking together ingredients. Caelum came over and began throwing in handfuls of chocolate chips, more than was necessary but his mother allowed him to do as he pleased.

When he was finished, he began dancing around the kitchen. His father chuckled and turned the music up a bit. They set the table and got the syrup out.

"Here we are." Hermione slid the last of the pancakes onto the plate and placed it on the table.

Caelum was kneeling on his chair, towering over the table, and Draco was telling him to plant his little bum on his seat for the umpteenth time when there was a tap at the window. Caelum hopped out his chair and got a knee on the counter so he could lift himself up to reach the window latch. His mum sighed and reminded him that he wasn't to be climbing the counters.

Caelum yelped as the owl nipped him but managed to snatch the letter from the bird anyway. He glared at the owl, denied it a treat and then opened the letter. "It's from Julie!" he exclaimed.

His wide brown eyes scanned the letter's contents. He handed it to his mum. "Nothing interesting," he complained. "You know, if I went to school already I'd always have interesting things to write to you about."

Hermione laughed. "And soon enough you will."

READ THIS PLEASE: a/n: okay, so a while ago I had posted the first chapter of a follow up to When in Doubt here and I just want to make sure that everyone who was interested in reading more of that have been redirected to "Lettie" which is now its own separate story and currently has nine chapters posted. So check it out if you haven't already and wanted to read about the romance blooming between James and Juliet. Find it on my profile.

Anyways,

Scarlett


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